Certificates. Trophies. Gleaming gold medals. A slap on the back and a wild cheer of approval. I surveyed my room as I took in all the lustrous metallic plates and frames, and felt a surge of pride flooding my heart.

On the right hanged the certificate of achievement from the Math competition, framed into a masterfully carved golden frame, with swirls and crescents dotting its margins. On my left stood the brilliant tall trophy from the marathon. Standing 1 meter high, it loomed over the frenzy of papers on my desk, wearing that majestic crown, it looked down at the others like a divine king. And of course! The medals that seated behind me piled 50 centimeters into the air. Merit badges. School competitions. Best worker of the month. You name it, I’ve got it. Yes, I can almost hear you muttering to yourself: “the experience comes first. And winning comes second.” Right? Not technically wrong, but how many of you actually believes that? Who wouldn’t want to stand on that podium, smiling toothily down at all the participation awards? Who wouldn’t want to hear “good job!”s and “you’re amazing!”s directed at them? To be entirely frank – you better brace yourselves if you’re the faint of heart – we human are selfish. We are arrogant. We feast on praises and achievements and winning competitions to feed the ever-growing beasts that dwells deep in our heart, Ego.

Imagine standing on the starting blocks as an Olympic 100 meters sprinter. The sun is in your eyes. The heat made you giddy. What’s more important in your mind? Beating all the others and grabbing all the news report’s headlines? Or making friends with that American sprinter in her starting position beside you? The answer is obvious. Although framed as an event that “brought the world together through sportsmanship,” the Olympics are no better at preventing gamesmanship from leaching into the pristine spirit of the competition than any country club. It can’t be helped, for a pure “spirit of competition” just don’t exist. Natural selection had killed any species that are solely altruistic and chivalrous. We human have won in evolution. So, what’s the difference of wanting to win another competition? It’s human nature to want approvals and recognition and the source of that, unsurprisingly, is through winning. The satisfaction of hearing the teacher reading out the best scores, the euphoria at seeing your name on the top of a list, the ecstasy of having everyone know who you are. Ego hummed happily, and you laughed in merriment.

But wait! I sensed a counter argument bubbling in your throat: the happiness gained from winning is matched with the grief and disappointment at losing. What if you fail? A never-ending abyss of negativity that you fall, fall, fall into, as yourself pride got shattered into a million piece. Well, yes! I don’t pretend to forget the negativities of competition and the disappointment of failure, but there is one thing I’m certain of: I don’t want to be disappointed. I want to win. With this determination. I give 120% effort to every one of my competitions: Math elite? Do a whole book of calculus and you would be one too. Marathon queen? A 20 km run every day won’t kill anyone. Merit badges? Competition winner? Best worker of the month? They are not easy gains. Motivated by the deterrence of failure and the desire to win, I soldier difficulties and beat obstacles in my way.

Of course, I had experienced defeats as well. But when I started to fall, I catch myself in the act. Stop! I would say to myself. Stop moaning and wailing and start prepping! What does not kill me, makes me stronger. The strong yearn to quench the hunger of my ego propels me up any abyss, any valley, until I flew onto the apex, victorious.

I took out a pact of alcohol wipes, and carefully took one of the medals off the walls. Rubbing at the smooth and golden surface, I watched my own face lit up with mirth as I recounted the “I’m so proud of you!” s and felt a phantom slap on the back.

I know what you think. What an arrogant. Self-centered, ego-controlled monster I am! But do a little self-reflection. Aren’t we all arrogant slaves of our pride?

Be truthful to yourself. You want to win. And what’s the shame in admitting that?