The Anxiety of Making it in Life by Precious Akinyede

No one told me life would always demand more from me. As a little child, I remember acting so carefree and bold. I felt like I could do anything I want, and be whoever I want. I’ve always wanted to be a doctor who could sing and an artist who understands the craft of writing. I also dreamed of being a successful wife and a brilliant business mogul, leading thousands of employees and earning billions of dollars. If someone asked me what I wanted, I would pick one thing plus many others. As a child, everyone was so amazed at my ability to dream wide and far. People called me Sonia the dreamer. They said I had a resourceful mind, they cheered me on and encouraged me to keep dreaming big and aiming for the stars and in no time, the sky would be my limit.

Yes! I grew up hearing “the sky will be your limit”. But as life went on, things began to change and people became discontented with just aiming for the stars, they wanted to see what was beyond the sky.

It has always been my culture to aim for the best. Being the last child in a home of elites made me feel like I always need to prove my worth and compete with my older siblings to satisfy my dad who is a master of many degrees and a professor in Theoretical Physics.

I couldn’t choose what I want because I had always believed the lives my siblings lived were the best, so I tried to follow their path. I wasn’t qualified through JAMB to study Medicine. So, I settled for Biochemistry and made sure I come out with a First-class degree, knowing fully well that anything less than that won’t make much sense to my family.

I thought that would be enough. I honestly did. I believed that once I had something tangible to show for all the effort, the questions in my head would finally calm down. But instead of peace, more questions showed up. What comes next? Am I doing enough? Am I already behind?

Somewhere along the way, I lost the ease I carried as a child. Back then, life felt wide and open. Now it feels narrow, like there is a right pace I am supposed to be keeping up with. Everyone else seems to be moving forward with confidence, or at least pretending well enough. I often feel like I am standing still, trying not to let anyone notice how unsure I am.

I thought graduating with a First-class degree was the biggest deal in life and I would immediately be offered open job opportunities and bonuses, but I guess my imaginations betrayed me.

No one ever told me that life would keep asking for proof. Proof that I am growing, Proof that I am serious, Proof that I am using my potential properly. It feels like the bar keeps moving, and just when I think I have reached something meaningful, it shifts again. I did not expect success, even in small doses, to feel this unsettling.

I felt so anxious to make it, not according to my standards, but according to what the world will respect and celebrate.  After a while, I found out that I had “Existential anxiety.”  This anxiety is quiet. It does not always come with tears or panic. Sometimes it looks like ambition. Sometimes it looks like staying busy. Sometimes it sounds like a voice in my head reminding me that time is moving and I cannot afford to waste it. It is the fear of becoming, or maybe the fear of not becoming fast enough.

Everyone seemed to move fast enough and it made me feel like my grades in school didn’t matter. I started comparing my progress and confidence to my friends’ achievements. I would scroll online, smile, and tell myself I was happy for them, but deep down I felt rushed. Every pause felt wrong. Every delay felt like a mistake. I was not just afraid of failing. I was afraid of never becoming who I thought I was meant to be.

I prayed about it. More than once. I asked for peace, for direction, for reassurance, for clarity and for a vision. But the anxiety did not disappear, and that confused me. It made me wonder what I was doing wrong. It made me feel like my faith should have solved this already. What I did not understand then was that prayer does not always make the weight disappear. Sometimes it simply makes you aware of how heavy it has been and it gives you the nudge to release the weight by trusting God and being vulnerable and open to receive.

Even after praying, taking rest and watching movies started to feel like laziness. Slowing down felt like I was falling behind. Finally, I realized I had tied my worth to my outcomes, grades, visible progress and timelines.

I am still learning how to loosen that grip. I am still figuring things out. But I am beginning to understand that making it in life does not have to feel like a race against time or a competition with someone else. Maybe becoming is not about reaching a final version of yourself. Maybe it is about learning how to live honestly, without fear, while you are still on the way.

Just like the Moso bamboo, the strongest growth often happens where no one can see it. When this tree is planted, it can spend years quietly sending down deep, resilient roots. At first, nothing appears above the ground. Then, when the time is right, it can shoot up tall and strong in just a few weeks. This serves as a reminder that long-term success often starts in ways that aren’t apparent.

About the Author: 
Akinyede Precious Olaitan is a content writer born and raised in Lagos, Nigeria. Popularly known as AshantiWrites. She graduated from Ekiti State University with a bachelor’s degree in Chemistry and is the first of three children. Embracing her role in her family has inspired her passion for teaching and enlightening others through writing. When she’s not writing, she enjoys watching movies, spending time with her family and friends, doing scientific research and creating valuable content. Writing, however, is her true purpose and the medium through which her voice is heard. Connect with her on Instagram @LADYP_AKINYEDE, via email at akinyedeprecious@gmail.com or on Facebook at Akinyede precious.

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