On the Fear of Success

“You're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting,
So... get on your way!”

― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go!

           

In school we talk about kids sabotaging their own success.  In the past I have always chalked that up to crazy psychobabble to excuse failure, but as I experienced it myself more deeply than I ever imagined possible last week I think I finally got it.  It happened after a meeting with my ever patient professor who has stood on the sidelines mostly gently prodding me (though sometimes looks of scorn have been just as helpful and even more needed!) towards this goal ten years in the making  - completing all the work necessary to earn the title, Danielle Johnson, PhD.  This title is pretty meaningless in some ways.  I get no raise or promotion at work.  My life will look basically the same on each side of the goal.  I have actually slowly lost courses at MU these past few semesters as the landscape of the department has shifted and changed over a decade.  In fact, I found out last week that I officially have no teaching assignments at MU in the foreseeable future.  So next year – though blissfully less busy will be one marked with a reduction in income and prestige right in conjunction with completion of the biggest academic and professional goal of my life.  As I drove home from the meeting where I learned this news I found my spirit crushed.  I almost burst into tears as I wondered if all this sacrifice – most importantly sacrifices costing my family my time and devotion - has been for nothing. 

            After more careful reflection I wondered if what I was experiencing was less disappointment over my teaching loss and more a true fear of success.  That meeting marked the closest I have ever felt to my goal of actually finishing this graduate program.  Most people quit their jobs while they pursue PhDs and put family plans on hold so they can wrap up the task in three to four years.  I never quit working – maintaining a teaching position at Oakland, giving birth to all three children during different stages of the program, and maintaining status as a graduate teaching and research assistant so I could still experience university life.  I was published multiple times and presented at more conferences than I can count.  I have written close to 1,000 pages all said – the last 250 to be defended and bound later this spring.  I should be proud and inspired, but I mostly feel sad….  I am not sure who I am outside of this goal. 

            What happens when you work TEN years towards one goal and actually reach it?  How often does this happen?  How much of my identity has been caught up in this pursuit?  To what extent will I lose this identity on the other side? Telling someone you are working on a PhD earns admiration (and some “better you than me” taunting).  Saying you are done just sounds like bragging.  Or nostalgic…  Oh yeah – I was a grad student once…  (I keep thinking of that line from Dirty Dancing about going slumming.) 

            As is often the case, I found some comfort talking to my dad this evening.  As he nears retirement he was able to immediately relate to what I am feeling and offered a fitting metaphor.  He said that I am about to stand on top of a mountain that I have been climbing for awhile – and after you get to the top and look around there is really nothing you can do but come back down.  The ascent has been quite a ride – painful and fraught with conflict – but also joyful beyond measure.  I have no idea what the descent will feel like.  I have been shamelessly advertising my celebration (have you marked your calendar for May 21^st yet) with the assumption that I needed people to toast me, but maybe what I really need is people to help me through the grieving process. 

            I guess it’s time to start seeking out new mountains.  That might be the only thing to tamper a genuine fear of success.  I also have to be comfortable with mountains that only can be climbed with intrinsic motivation as the only prize at the top is self-satisfaction of a job well done.  Maybe I have to be okay with small mountains like organizing the clothes drawers of three spoiled little girls born to a mom with a passion for discount kids clothing or swimming laps on a more regular basis. 

            Humans are complex beings able to live out oxymorons like fear of success.  I am blessed to have been able to spend the past ten years learning more about us.  I hope I can use the experiences and knowledge gained along the way – especially the gripping fear I felt last week  - to do what I set out to ten years ago; to be better and do better for all the children I come into contact with – especially the ones who fear the mountain.