Somewhere along the way, we all picked up this quiet belief that if something doesn’t work the first time, it must mean there is something wrong with us. Like we missed a memo. Like we are falling behind. Like everyone else is secretly getting it right and we are the only ones buffering.
In soft blue glitter font, here is your reminder: there is nothing wrong with you.
Welcome to Chill Pill, a biweekly column every Wednesday about slowing down in a world that rarely lets us do so as college students. Here, we will talk about balance, burnout and the small things that can make college life feel a little less overwhelming.
You’re just… in progress. And progress isn’t a synonym for perfection but rather a safety net for you to try again.
Not in a weird “push yourself until you become someone else” kind of way. More in a “okay, that didn’t land as I intended it to; let me adjust and re-enter” kind of way. In video games, you don’t lose points for restarting — you just get closer to figuring out how to finish.
And this is where ego death sneaks in (and yes, I learned about this on TikTok last night and no, it is not as dramatic as sounds).
An ego death in its simplest form is when your inner narrator, the one that’s obsessed being right, shuts up for a second. And that silence is everything. Because in that silence your mistakes stop being identity statements. They stop meaning you are bad at this and start meaning you are learning this.
Ego death is not you disappearing. It is you stopping the performance of being a perfect, constantly-figured-out version of yourself. It is the first breath of fresh air when you realize that you do not have that image up all the time.
And when that drops? Life gets weirdly gentle.
You text your crush and it doesn’t go how you wanted? Try again.
You start something and feel awkward? Try again.
You have a week where you feel off, behind, unmotivated? Try again.
Not because you failed. But because you are allowed to re-enter your life as many times as you need.
Life is not a one-shot performance where one awkward moment defines who you are as a person, but rather like a soft reboot system. You glitch, and then you learn and reload.
And then there’s the best part: No one is watching you as closely as your ego wants you to believe. So, take the pressure off your identity. There is no need to turn every movement into proof of who you are.
There is nothing wrong with you.
You are just in motion.
So breathe and try again.