The Trouble with Ambition

Being ambitious isn’t what its cracked up to be… Yes, it had its uses in the past. In competitive sporting activity from a young age… it was useful then to get the drive and motivation purely from wanting to win. When required to take more GCSEs than most to the highest of standards… it was vital then. When deliberating over which A-Levels to choose, my need to succeed instantly eliminated those that weren’t considered ‘real subjects’. Now however, aged 20, an uncontrollable ambition just leads to stress and dissatisfaction.

I could understand and even deal with it if it stayed within my academic life. Only a certain percentage of the course will get 2:1s and 1:1s… its clearly therefore positive that I strive for that area. The best person will win… that much is true. I’ve got to Warwick on my competitive streak, there’s no reason why I can’t leave this wonderful place by it as well.

But what’s really annoying, is that this irritation has crept steadily into my love life. Since breaking up with my Sainsbury’s-worker, ambition-lacker and full time ‘lazy boy’ 6 months ago, my mind has slipped into overdrive regarding men. No longer can I accept what is offered to me… 20 year old students (sadly) just don’t quite make the cut. Guys that lie in bed for half of the day and write essays for half of the night… they lack a certain appeal.

I never dreamt that a summer job in a local hospital could lead to a perfect and frustratingly unattainable solution: Junior Doctors. Young, intelligent, witty, caring, kind… those who long to specialise in Paediatrics would be an even better catch- (good with children!!!! Aww…). And so behind my non-descript desk covered in frankly unchallenging work, I sit and fantasise about the life I’d dreamed of that Dr. Reasonably Beautiful could most definitely provide. It’d be perfect… My career, his career. Both working in central London. A trouser suit dream married to Sir Stethoscope, with a couple of Blackberry’s between them. A couple of heartbreakingly cute children follow that we can move into our chocolate box house in the countryside— “get me notes for bed A3 please”.

And there it is. An ambitious step too far… With minimal exceptions, these wonderful specimens of human being marry lawyers and high flying stockbrokers. So, at the age of 20… Ambition = heartbreak and disappointment.