Be great.
In high school, my mom opted for those two words and a quick kiss on the cheek as opposed to words of goodbye. Two syllables, two words — words that never failed to follow me out the door and tuck themselves in the pocket of my backpack as a necessity for the school day. It provided comfort and reassurance on the days where life seemed too much, where the expectations and pedestals placed upon me felt like walls about to close in. When I would be rushing out the door, even with the time ticking close to the ring of the first bell, I would pause for a second at the foot of the door to make sure my goodbye was met with an exchange of another, 'be great.'
The words became something akin to a backbone of support; they were something I could take, mold into my own, and place it on my skin like a second layer of protection. It became a promise almost; a promise to myself that I wouldn't settle for anything else otherwise, a promise to be better, and a promise that despite the days where doubt and apprehension tempted me for the night, there was always dawn to look forward to.
I told myself that being great didn't necessarily mean meeting and exceeding every ounce of expectation and responsibility that I previously thought was derived from the word. I told myself that being great didn't necessarily mean success as traditionally defined by cultural and societal beliefs. Often times, I confused fighting and rebelling against preconceived notions of what it meant to "be great" with passion and defiance for being whatever I wanted to be. I refused to be defined and placed in a box that suffocated rather than shaped me for the better.
But the thing is, I confused fighting with passion before I realized that nothing greater came from being able to go on with the day and defining great in the ways I deemed beneficial for me and my growth as an individual. And, I think that's what my mom meant. She expected me to take those words and make them into my own because as long as I was true to myself, greatness would come in the ways it was meant to be for me.
Ultimately, being great just meant being daring enough to think so. And I do. I do dare to be greater than every self-rooted limitation and every false promise covered in doubt that has found its way to me. I do dare to be more than the world thinks of me.
But more importantly, I do dare.
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness
That most frightens us."
- Marianne Williamson