Katy Scott Allen

Yesterday, I celebrated getting my first anonymous rating of three stars! Some of you may not understand my eagerness to rejoice in my mediocrity, and trust me, I get it. It’s hard for me to just be sort of ok at what I do. We all want to do our best, to be the best, right? I think it’s hard-wired into our DNA as humans. But, newsflash, we don’t all get to be the best.

I actually went to the same high school as the bestselling author, Jenny Han: the Maggie L. Walker Governor’s School for Government and International Relations. It’s a magnet school in the Richmond Metro Area, which draws some pretty ambitious students. It’s fun to be tangential to professional success, even if it’s tempting to play the comparison game. I don’t think I’m the only one who occasionally wonders what happened to all my supposed potential.

But the reality is that my life hasn’t afforded me a straight shot to professional success. Even in the halls of that high school, I was often late to class because I had to roll my wheelchair to the side of the building with an elevator and then back across the building again. I never finished a single semester of college without needing a medical extension. And I’ve pivoted careers due to health concerns so many times that it would make most folks dizzy.

I’m not unique. We all have challenges. Life is generous that way. Even those who are living charmed, carefree lives have family, friends, and hobbies that demand time and energy. Hopefully, we are all building lives outside our professions. More importantly, we are continuously remodeling our character with every choice we make. The totality of our identity is more than professional success.

Nevertheless, the challenging part of this new pursuit for me has been conquering the fear of mediocrity. What if I write something and no one wants to read it? What if they only read it out of pity? Yuck. What if they pat me on the head for my bravery, but actually grimace at my writing after the first page? I’m not naive; I’m an amateur, and it’s bound to happen.

I don’t want stars I haven’t earned. I’m also not ready to give up on being a productive member of society. Most importantly, I don’t want to be so afraid of three stars that I won’t try something new. After losing the ability to do just about anything else, I have started a new career in my forties. On an international platform, I’ve received one anonymous rating of “good enough.” I think I’ll take it and keep writing. Maybe I’ll even get better.