I never thought that being intelligent could be so tiring and make me feel so empty. Ever since I was little, I wanted to make a change in the world. I wanted to do something that would impact the lives of those around me and make my loved ones proud. It didn't matter what I did, as long as I did something to bring more positivity into our world and to show people that I was smart. I would see historical figures like Albert Einstein, who created the equation E=mc^2 and produced theories of relativity, and Leonardo da Vinci, who created the Mona Lisa and the Last Supper pieces that are still known to this day, and think, “ Hey, one day I can be like them. Maybe I can invent or create something new that will change the world. Something that will be remembered for a long time. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay. I can tell you for sure that being smart is not always as pleasant and easy as it seems. It can truly be a bloodbath for many. Intelligence is not just something you are born with, but it is something you need to practice and improve. The amount of time, energy, and sacrifice it takes to actually be considered “smart” is ridiculous. I spent so much of my time setting the highest and most exhausting expectations for myself to achieve what I saw others do to make my family and friends proud of me. I've had moments where I really put all my heart and precious time into something and got results that weren't as great as I expected. The first year was by far the worst and most stressful of my life. I thought I could easily balance all these CP classes with an AP class when I decided to take them. I was arrogant and naive in my actual abilities as an average student. I knew I was smart but I didn't know my breaking point. I started comparing myself to others, listening to them talk as if they had memorized the book perfectly. I read what my peers were writing and began to shrink further and further into my seat, disappointed and embarrassed that I couldn't write as beautifully and fluidly as them. Every sentence my colleagues wrote was like an elegant, clean brush stroke on a canvas. My canvas, however, looked like a mess to my eyes. I could never seem to get what I wanted down on paper as precisely as some of my colleagues. I began to push myself further and further away, slowly collapsing from exhaustion. I felt lost, only thinking about the success of those around me, but never taking the time to reflect on what I had accomplished. Because of this, my love for learning slowly began to crumble. I was ridiculed by my peers for asking questions most of the time. This began to eat away at my confidence, until there was almost no confidence left. I was simply a curious student who wanted to make sure what I knew was correct. As I grew up I started to see school differently. It wasn't just fun and games anymore. School has become a competition. We weren't young teenagers who simply wanted to learn. Now we were teenagers competing against each other. Seeing who had the most As, the highest GPA, and who would receive the most honor roll awards. I saw my friends displaying their honor roll awards or showing off their letter jackets that reflected what they had become; successful. I told myself I wasn't like them, even though those who cared about me swore wholeheartedly and assured me that I was. I just knew I could do it.