High-Achievers and Celebrations

Over the last several weeks, as I’ve been putting up more and more racks of medals (there are 208 of them so far), as well as ribbons, trophies, plates, and other various triathlon awards, and realizing HOW MANY of them there really are, I have wondered why in the hell I never put them up before. Why didn’t I celebrate myself as much as I now think I deserve?

I’ve been stewing over this question for a while and it struck me last night that I refused to go to my graduation with a PhD from Princeton. At age 24. I mean, I was eight months pregnant at the time and had a one-year-old and the graduation was across the country, but I didn’t even once consider it. I remember being happy that no one was trying to pressure me into going, because I’d tried hard not to go to my high school graduation, my graduation with a BA at age 19, and then an MA also at age 19.

I remember how uncomfortable I felt sitting through those graduations. It wasn’t the boring nature of them. It was that I felt like they meant nothing. I was always headed on to the next thing. This wasn’t a stopping place. A celebration felt meaningless. Because I had so many more important things to do. I planned to celebrate those important things, I guess. But I’m not sure if I ever got to the place where I thought I’d done any of those important things. I just — ran out of energy at some point and am now left feeling like I’m…