For numerous reasons, the topic — how stereotypical gender representations are bad not just for women, but society overall — is my heart. It took a long road of personal experiences and academic exposure to realize this is my passion.

I wrote an amazing essay and worked harder on it than any other single piece of nonacademic writing I’d ever completed.

This paper was my baby. I invested countless hours and conversations, and put so much energy into this piece. I began writing in May, submitted it by the end of July and out of 500 contestants was announced a finalist in early September.

Yet much to my initial devastation, I didn’t win the overall grand prize.

To have a tangible representation of what I care so much about not win first place was crushing. Not getting first surely meant I must actually just suck. Just some lowly finalist who was close, but not close enough.

But after allowing myself a brief indulgence in self-pity, I made a conscious decision to act like Great Britain.

I spent the summer living in New York without access to TV. This wasn’t really an issue except for having to miss the Olympics. One of the few events I was able to catch, though, was the men’s 10-meter diving finals.

USA ended up taking the gold, China came within two points to take the silver and Great Britain earned bronze 10 points behind that.

Following his spectacular performance, FINA Male Diver of the Year, Qiu Bo, of China, cried alone in a corner. Tom Daley of Great Britain, along with his teammates and coaches, jumped into the pool in celebration.

Before the event, Daley expressed his desire to win gold in honor of his dad, who died of brain cancer last year.

I imagine that just how I envisioned taking first as the ultimate validation of my work, Daley saw winning the gold as the best tribute to his dad.

But just because neither of our visions came precisely true doesn’t mean we didn’t achieve our goals.

Quoting Daly’s interview in the Telegraph: “Tonight I have got something to show for all the hard work. It is about time my family had some good news. Although this is a bronze medal, for me it is gold.”

The dignity and maturity of his reaction only was amplified in juxtaposition to Bo’s.
Indeed, my first instincts after learning I didn’t win involved crying in a fetal position and wallowing in my failure. But that’s not me.

I entered this contest with good intentions, a desire to learn more and a resounding commitment to work as hard as possible. What is the point of all of those things if not to celebrate them?

What good does crying over a top-level loss do without acknowledging that you’re at the top? None. I didn’t win the grand prize for this exact reason. To learn that no win, or loss, defines what you’re capable of. No one accolade or accomplishment cements your status as a badass.

I’d decided in May that winning this contest was the only way to legitimize myself as relevant. It would be the one thing I could point to and say to everyone: “See, I am actually, in fact, the cat’s pajamas, the bee’s knees.” I clung for so long to this theory that when it didn’t materialize, my first reaction was heartbreak.

Never invest so much in your definition of success that you fail to grasp what it is you’ve actually accomplished. And in losing, don’t lose sight of the opportunity to grow, reflect and keep getting better. You either let quirks in the plan define you, or you simply keep going, recognizing that success simply will look different than first anticipated.

Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team, Steve Jobs never graduated college, Hope Solo got switched from a fielder to a goalie in college.

Make no mistake, I’m a must-win person. But I’m starting to shift my do-or-die mentality by adding an adapt component.

I used to think that focusing only on hard-and-fast victories made me tough — only accepting the best showed I cared more than anyone who could walk away from a loss without being devastated. But that’s just remarkably untrue.

Bo’s “Gold or Bust” mindset proved pretty miserable when he got silver, but Daley’s choice to relish the bang-up job he’d done was more in line with just what he had achieved.

Daley was diving to win, whereas Bo was diving not to lose.

Why waste any time being miserable? Regardless of the outcome, commend yourself for how far you’ve come and continue to adapt your game plan.

Don’t lower your ambitions, just use some perspective when you don’t reach them.

Think about it, would you rather spend your time sulking in a corner or jumping into a pool with your friends?

Abby Wood is a guest columnist at The State News and a journalism senior. Reach her at woodabby@msu.edu.