When I finished reading my college acceptance letter, I quite literally jumped for joy in the parking lot. I was the happiest man alive … for about a day. 

I woke up the next day, and instead of studying for finals along with the rest of my classmates, I stared at the empty quad for almost an hour. And I couldn’t help but feel like I, too, was empty.  

There’s a common phenomenon called the “Post-Olympic Blues,” where Olympians who win gold often find themselves in extreme depression afterward. After dedicating their entire lives to achieving this global recognition, they feel like they are not deserving of being one of the most fulfilled individuals in the world. 

This is not to say pursuits towards end goals are pointless –– they build character. In fact, in my eyes, it’s the values of dedication, consistency, grit and passion that may make life fulfilling.  

But this lens of living a fulfilling life through hard work is dangerous –– and it’s often inherently baked into Paly’s academic culture.  

Many seniors have worked nonstop for so many years. We bear the mental tolls of not only our own pressures, but the pressures our friends put on themselves too. We constantly worry we won’t match the “life-defining” moments everyone talks so much about. 

Still, after my college acceptance, I spent the next few months feeling purposeless. Worst of all, I thought I would have to live the rest of my life pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion to find purpose and motivation. If I’m not working towards pushing myself to the extremes, will present day me truly be happy? 

Reflecting on this mindset a few months later, I’ve realized that despite this prior notion, I’ve let myself slow down. I now have more free time to spend with friends and family, play a mix of pickleball and basketball for seven hours, rock climb during the weekdays and cook long-overdue meals for my friends. I have more time to explore the arts, finding new interest in analyzing literature we read in class, or exploring new ways to push my photojournalistic storytelling.

And while this all sounds like the “peace” everyone talks about in second semester senior year, I still find myself less happy than I was in the midst of my junior year grind. At least then –– in my mind –– I was working towards something that could alter the trajectory of my life. 

The grind, discovery of new concepts, and impact I made on those around me defined my life’s meaning. As a result, I believed nonstop drive, sleepless nights and a belief I was working towards something was the only way to be happy; it was a curse I feared I would have to live with for the rest of my life.

And so as I drifted aimlessly during second semester, it felt as though I needed to throw myself back into the storm of extremes. A more relaxing, but monotonous and predictable life was a painful one. My extreme emotion-peace contradiction revealed that enjoying adversity and the bad days, just as much as the good ones, is essential. 

My ultimate takeaway from this internal conflict is that the best way to live a fulfilling life is by learning to find salvation in the journey, not the outcome. 

I’m moving on from what I used to believe: that college is the end goal and success only comes with validation from others.

I urge you to find your own definition of a fulfilling life. And then change it. Over and over. Maybe you, too, will find peace eventually. 

Ha. And then what?