Wander & Wonder

Lately, I’ve found myself caught in the trap of seeing life as a competition. I feel this constant pressure to prove that I can be the best at everything I do. However, since starting medical school, this mindset has gradually drained the joy from learning new things. After all, when you’re starting out in any field, it’s impossible to master the concepts and tasks right away. Being “the best” requires years of dedication and experience—and even then, expertise rarely guarantees that title. I’m beginning to realize that it’s unrealistic to excel in every area of life and this relentless striving has left me feeling exhausted, as though I’m failing simply because I can’t master everything I take on.

So today, I shared these feelings with my dad. I told him how overwhelmed I felt by the pressure to be the best and how I was on the verge of giving up because everything felt like too much to handle. His response was simple: “You just need to try.” At first, it seemed like a very underwhelming response. But as I let the words sink in, I began to realize the wisdom of this advice.

What does it mean to try? By definition, “try” means “to make an attempt or effort to achieve or attain something.” Does this definition mention immediate success or perfection? Not at all! Trying simply means showing up and putting in the effort—even when the outcome is uncertain. That’s it! It’s not about the result, it’s about the process: persistence, hard work, and a genuine intent to learn and help.

I hold the belief that, to be a doctor, you need to know everything. But how did I come to this conclusion? Perhaps it started with how I’ve viewed much of my life as a competition, especially in academics. Striving for stellar performance to secure acceptance into medical school instilled in me a deep-rooted need to excel—something that has been years in the making. Or perhaps it’s because medical school places a heavy emphasis on knowledge, demanding the memorization of vast amounts of information. This may have created the false perception that I am expected to know it all. Then there’s the experience of clinical rotations, where I often feel like I’m under a microscope—being asked tough questions in front of peers and patients and feeling inadequate when I answer incorrectly or admit I don’t know the answer. Success is rewarded with praise and even sometimes a cup of coffee or a lunch, further reinforcing the idea that uncertainty and errors are undesirable. Perhaps it’s also the comparisons I draw between myself and those around me. I’m surrounded by highly intelligent peers, residents, and staff physicians, and I often feel like I will never be as smart or skilled as them. Or maybe it stems from the constant talk of the future: “You will be expected to know this as a doctor”, or “When you’ll be a doctor, you can never miss this”, or “One day you’ll be responsible for X, Y, and Z.” These statements emphasize the gravity of being a doctor, and make the future feel overwhelming and even unattainable, especially as someone who has just begun their training.

Despite all these potentially contributing factors, the ultimate blame lies with me. I am the one who chose to see the responsibilities of a doctor as daunting and intimidating, rather than exciting and worth striving for. More importantly, I am the one who decided that doctors need to be “all-knowing”, and I allowed this belief to cause so much stress that it has taken away from my ability to enjoy my time in medical school so far.

So, back to what my dad said—it’s time to challenge my harmful motto of “You need to be the best” and replace it with a new one: “You just need to try.” While a doctor must be knowledgeable, medicine is constantly evolving. How could any one person memorize and retain all medical knowledge? The answer is: they can’t, and they aren’t expected to.

As physician, isn’t it far more important to know how to access resources, communicate effectively, consult other professionals when needed, and demonstrate empathy toward patients? These are the skills that truly define a great doctor—not the illusion of knowing everything. With this reflection, I’ve chosen my New Year’s resolution: to be happy and proud that I’m trying. It won’t be easy, and it will take time to change how I think, but I am confident that it will be worth it. Merci papa. xx

Disclaimer: While I primarily refer to medical school in this post—mainly because it’s where I currently spend most of my time—the mindset of needing to be “the best” has seeped into many other areas of my life. For instance, if I don’t swim as fast as or faster than my fellow swimmers during practice, I feel as though I’ve failed the session. This is why my goal of focusing on my efforts and simply showing up, rather than fixating on performance, will greatly benefit my life as a whole, not just my experience in medical school.