I had always viewed success o­nly as being o­n top. I believed there was no point of staying in the middle of a class rank or a competition. I would not waste my time doing something unless I knew I could try my best and get the highest result. “Failure” is not a word in my dictionary. I am a very competitive girl, a perfectionist. It probably is a result of my parents, who are quite successful businessmen in Vietnam. I have been influenced by them for so long that I have no choice: I have to be best at everything, so being o­n top is the goal of my life.

For as long as I can remember, I have always tried my best in everything I do. My parents, however, were never satisfied at my results. They always expected more. It seemed like I was never good enough. I remember the time I got a bad grade in my math class; I felt terrible. I knew that I had disappointed my parents. I cried and blamed myself for not being smart enough. My mother scolded me for getting a bad grade. She looked sad and turned her face away from mine. I was crushed.

When I earned a high score in a test, the first people I wanted to tell about my achievement were my parents. I remember running home breathlessly to let them know that I had scored an A o­n the test. My mother looked at the paper o­n my hand while hurrying to a meeting. She did not smile or pat my head like my friends’ parents did when they got high scores. She o­nly asked if mine was the highest score in the class. I shook my head and looked down. “You could have done better,” was all she said before closing the door behind.

I had never been able to find the answer to my question: what can I do to make my parents proud of me? I wondered if trying my hardest was good enough. To be an ideal daughter was to be perfect; this required natural talent in every subject and the brain of a genius. Unfortunately, I was born a normal girl who was foolishly trying my hardest despite my inability to achieve such things. For the longest time, it was like running o­n a treadmill. I was very tired and tempted to give up. My parents, however, were standing o­n both sides. They kept pushing me to run faster and harder. I was worried that I would disappoint them if I put my hand o­n the stop button or even tried to slow down the speed. I was exhausted.

One afternoon as I was walking home from school, I accidentally bumped into my aunt. She asked me to come to her house for afternoon tea. I had not been there for a long time because most of my time had been filled up with school work and after-school activities. I could not even attend the family meeting with my parents earlier of the month. Coming to my aunt’s house was a good excuse for me to take a little break, and I had always loved the strawberry cakes she made for afternoon tea. I accepted her invitation and went along.

On the way to her house, my aunt told me about the last family reunion I had missed and asked me about school. She seemed to know everything about me in school as if she was secretly a classmate of mine, who had sat behind me, watching me everyday and writing down every honor and prize I had won in the last two years. I was amazed at how she could be so proud of me just because I had won a prize or two. “If o­nly my parents thought so,” I told her and looked down at my toes. At that moment, I was wishing more than anything else that what I had heard was not from my aunt, but from my mother.

“Your parents told us all those things about you in our family meeting,” my aunt patted my head. “They were so proud of you.”

I could not believe what I had just heard. What she said must be true; there was no other way my aunt could know so well all the things I had done without my parents telling her. I learned from her that my parents did not want me to be over-confident by letting me know that they were always so proud of what I had done. They wanted me to try my best always and liked to hear nice words from other people. They had always wanted the best for me.

In that afternoon, I found the answer to the question that I had been looking for: Success is to be o­n top, but to be truly successful I need to make myself and other people, especially my parents, proud of what I have done. I was relieved to know that my parents had always believed in me. However, it was too late to change the way I was. My competitive and perfectionistic traits have become such a part of me that I am afraid I must learn to live with them.

Written by Trần Phương My A 03-06
Edited by Chu Vân Hương A1 98-01