“This is it,” I whisper to myself, as I gaze into the open gym.

The gymnasium was filled with adolescents from all over Ohio, their loud chattering making it hard to hear my friends gossiping behind me. It was huge and unfamiliar, intimidating me slightly as my teammates and I walked deeper into the gym. We plopped ourselves down on the floor facing the far end of the gym, which held the panel of judges that had watched our performance earlier today. To my left there were tall bleachers, filled with the parents of these children. I spotted my mother and our coaches quickly, sending them a quick wave before looking back at my friends. 

In all honesty, I was absolutely terrified. This was it; the big moment. I looked at my friends' smiling faces, wondering; how they could be so carefree? This was when we were going to find out whether we were going to Destination Imagination Globals. We had been working on our performance for months, working diligently and determinedly after school. It had been like a failed roller coaster, getting here. The track would always dip, plunging us into despair and anger, but would always come back up, if only a little bit. 

We were supposed to represent a game, Trouble, to be precise, and create a play out of it. In the end, we had a hilariously dull character named Suzie Q, who would be the one who rolled the dice. That was me. I never held any emotion in my voice, except for the occasional annoyance at the game pieces, who were portrayed by my friends. In the end, the exceedingly stupid, but hilariously charming character named Steve, won the game, and our performance was over. Later, we found out that we, the “Trouble Makers,” had gotten first place out of our county, and received a special award for our outstanding performance. 

Now, we had moved on. We were competing against people from all over Ohio. If we got within the top three, we would move on to Globals. Where people from around the world would come and compete. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and now, I was starting to remember the pressure that was building on us. 

Alas, I had always loved acting, and I thought that I was okay at it. I wasn't too special, but I was noticeable amongst a crowd of novices. But that was before I found out how easy acting was. Everyone I knew could do it. I wasn't special, I wasn't even sure if I was good at acting. People would tell me I was, but I always would make excuses as to why they were lying. They pity you. They have to lie in fear of you breaking down. They're just too nice to tell you the truth. Right about now, the pressure was getting to me, and I'm questioning my acting skills further.

I couldn't focus, and my breathing was starting to speed up. The feelings inside of me were churning like butter, creating a sick, curtling feeling in my stomach. Thoughts were rushing through my head, repeating the horrible phrases that I've always feared; You're going to let the team down. You're not going to move on, and it's all your fault. Think of how disappointed they'll be. It'll be all your fault that you made them suffer, and after all you've been through, you won't move on; because you messed up. You're a screw up. You blew it for them. All that work was for nothing. Because. Of. You.

The thoughts were rushing through my mind, replaying themselves as if they were a broken record. Sometimes they were the voices of my friends, my coaches, and my parents. A hot feeling was creeping up my face, and I felt the need to gag. This was torture. I just wanted them to tell us that we had gotten last place so I could go home. I felt as though there was a creature inside of my stomach, slowly eating away at my patience and happiness, growing into a monster of doubt and anxiety.

Pulling my knees up to my face, I listened to my friends talking, their voices soothing me, if only slightly. The monster was still raging inside my head, shouting insults, as if trying to feed my insecurities with hurtful words. Worthless! Useless! Disgusting! Spoiled Brat! Waste of space! I had grown accustomed to this though. Still, it happened rarely, so I was still unprepared for the sudden loss of overall happiness. I shook my head, and continued to converse with my friends, keeping my voice a cheerful chirp.

After a while of waiting and talking to my friends, a voice suddenly rang out. 

“Attention everyone! We will now start giving out the awards, but first I would like to say a few words to all of you wonderful, creative people...” 

As the judge talked, he complimented everyone on their creativity, and the accomplishment of making it this far. He said that he was proud of every one of us, and that all of us deserved to move on, but sadly, he and his fellow judges could only choose three. 

You don't deserve to move on, the voice whispered scathingly into my ear, and it was almost as if I could feel its hot breath puffing down my back.

The judge continued to describe in great detail about how amazing everyone here was, looking down at a stack of papers in front of him. His little speech wasn't very long, but to me it felt as if the end was light years away. I was barely listening at this point, for I was too busy trying desperately to distract myself from my insecurities and doubts. They were clawing at me, scratching my mind raw, as I looked around for something to soothe me. So, I looked at my friends. They could always calm me down, whether they knew it or not. So, while the judge at the front was finishing up his mini speech, I stared at my friends. We had gone through so much together. There were tears, fights, and laughter on our way to get here, and throughout the journey, I wasn't even sure if it was worth it. I still wasn't sure as I sat there, staring at them, taking in every freckle, every color, every detail I could find. I listed them in my mind, repeating their names. They deserved to be here. I may not, but at least they did, and I was happy we were able to get this far, even with me dragging the team down constantly. They were so excited. So proud. So innocent.

“...And with that, I think I'm done, sorry about that,” the judge chuckled lightly, ruffling his papers. “I believe we can move on to the placements! Starting with Monster Effects!” He continued, a smile lighting up his face. With that, he continued to give out the awards to the participants, starting from first place, to third place. But with each word he spoke, it seemed to add to the ever growing pile of anticipation and anxiety that was building in the bottom of my stomach. Too many thoughts were swirling around my head for me to focus on his voice. Hope was trying desperately to break into my thoughts. I tried to let it in, I tried desperately to throw open the doors of my mind, welcoming it in; but something was stopping me. The handles wouldn't turn, and it was as if I was standing there, foolishly rattling the handles as my thoughts told me to give up. I just wanted to believe in myself, in my team. I just wanted to believe that we could do it.

The judge's voice woke me out of my trance as he said, “And now, it's time for Game On!”

A small gasp rang out among my group. This was our category! We gazed at each other, excitement painted on each of their faces. Suddenly the doors were flung open, and hope flooded my senses, engulfing me in an overwhelming amount of excitement. We can do it! A new voice whispered. I liked it, I really did. 

“And first place goes to a team that demonstrated incredible talent through their beautiful pac man arcade game,” the man said, looking out into the crowd, “Come up here and claim your first place prize, The Pacmanians!” Cheering erupted from a small section of the crowd, as a group of boys and girls stood, jumping and screaming at each other, the enthralled looks on their faces causing me to smile sadly. I was happy for them, but still. There was no first place for us. At least there's still second and third place, I reassured myself. 

“In second place,” the judge said, “Goes to a team that showed great humor...” 

Could it be us?

“And demonstrated the game Twister very well, with lots of twists and turns in the plot!” He said with a wink.

Nope. Not us. Hope was slowly draining from me once again. The rush of excitement was only temporary. I should've known. There was still third place, but I had learned that it was better to hope for the worst and get better, rather than expect the best, and receive the worst. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for disappointment, a feeling I was quite acquainted with. The air smelled stale, and of chemicals, as if someone tried to clean the gym, but failed to dust. The room was cool, despite being filled with crowded, cramped, uncomfortable people. 

“And finally, in third place,” The judge's voice rung out once again, his enthralled expression leaking into his voice, “We have a team who showed great humor, and made us laugh the whole time,”

I could feel my face fall. It wasn't us. We didn't make the judges laugh at all. It was as if they had an unfaltering mask covering their emotions, which must have been that they hated us. 

“...This team put on a creative, suspenseful play, effectively using most of the criteria we had asked for, and going beyond that. Their character Suzie Q impressed us all in particular, and we loved her dry, sarcastic humor. So, please come up, the Trouble Makers!”

The whole gym fell quiet, as if in mourning. I turned my head towards my teammates, as I saw their shocked faces turning into beaming smiles. That was us! 

One of the girls screamed as we all jumped up, hugging each other and yelling about our victory, as if hoping the whole world would hear our cries of joy. For the first time today, my thoughts were clear, and all I could feel was happiness flowing through my veins. My vision was blurred with tears of joy and all I could see were the swimming outlines of my teammates in front of me. They flooded my senses, their excitement was my excitement, their shrieks were my shrieks, their smiles were my smiles.

The sound of someone clearing their throat awoke us, the screams quieted, the jumping stopped. 

“Thank you for that joyful display of affection,” the judge snickered as a blush creeped onto my face, “Please come up here and take your medals,” 

While we had our medals bestowed upon us, I thought about everything. Our rehearsals, while enjoyable, were always filled with some kind of drama. Fights that were carried to school broke out all the time, and people were forced to choose sides, make last minute changes, and all kinds of gossip. I thought about all the times I had complained to my mother about my sufferings. She always told me, “You need to sacrifice to succeed, no good thing comes without at least a little bit of suffering.”

I knew now what she meant. All the tears I had shed, the rumors spread, the busy nights, they had been worth it for this moment; for this opportunity.

As one of the judges placed one of the medals over my head, I could feel the small weight of the small circle of metal weighing on my chest, its delicate figure lying softly on me. But, as I feel this small ribbon around my neck, I feel a weight lift off of my shoulders. My mind feels clearer, and a smile graces my face effortlessly. I didn't have to “fake it 'till you make it,” I didn't have to force myself to beam like my friends. It was a reflex, and I felt special. It was like the whole world had disappeared, leaving me with this accomplishment. 

My friends and I walked back to our spot, chattering excitedly about our accomplishment. Squeals and giggles rung out through our group, as I pondered our victory. I was in my own world in my head, bathing in this wonderful glory that was victory. We had suffered through so much to get here. But here we were. 

When we sat back down, my mind was still racing with these thoughts. The ceremony finished soon after that, and our team was awarded with another medal, congratulating us on my acting skills specifically. They told us that my acting stood out, and that the character development was superb. Through all of this, I couldn't even think. I was overwhelmed with joy and excitement, and it felt as though I could walk on air. 

When we left the gym, we looked at our scores. As we looked, our coaches congratulated us, praising us on our performance and hard work. They would assure us that they were proud of us, and that we deserved this. They spoke of how our collaboration brought us together, leading us to our victory. While they talked, I barely listened. I was too focused on how amazing this felt. 

The chances of us moving on had seemed impossible, and all the hard work we had put into this would've been for almost nothing. The experiences, yes, they were enjoyable most of the time, but conflict would often creep into our group. It tore us apart at times, and we could barely look at each other without fighting. During these days, I would dread going to the practices. Nothing I did was ever good enough there. But deep down, I thought that nothing I did would ever be enough;ever. Not just in D.I, but everywhere else too. The small amount of confidence I had left had been thrown out the window, to be replaced by anxiety and doubt, knocking on my door, begging to be let in. Time would go on, and eventually, I gave up. I let them in. The stress got to me, as my thoughts would constantly be filled with worry and anger. I'd cry myself to sleep, insomnia wrapping me in its arms, whispering my deepest fears, reminding me of my failures and embarrassments. When these nights came, I seriously considered quitting. I didn't want to deal with all the stress, the anxiety, the tears, and the tension. It was too much for me. 

But every time this would happen, I would express these feelings to my mother. When these times came, she would reassure me, and tell me that if I really did hate it that much, it would be over soon. 

But, through all the difficulties and struggling, I had fun. I loved my friends, and we would have so much fun together. We joked together, and we were friendly and comfortable around each other. These times made everything worth it. And this victory just added more worth. I realized this now. 

Soon, the coaches finished. Everyone was beaming, high on life. I could only imagine what was rushing through their minds, as they fondled with their medals, watching as the light reflected off of their shiny exteriors. We hugged and high fived each other for the last time, as we said our goodbyes, and headed to our separate cars. 

My mother met me with a hug and a smile, telling me repeatedly about how proud of me she was. Her light blue eyes sparkled with love as she opened the car door for me, small lines crinkling around those gorgeous orbs of hers. When we got in, we sat down and buckled up. Then, unexpectedly, she turned around, and asked me “Well? Was it worth it?”

I frowned, glancing out the window at the unfamiliar school. Memories were rushing through me, like snow in a blizzard. I was enveloped by them, remembering the small details, like the different flavored Oreos that we would share with each other, the time when I cried after my friend threw a pencil at me, writing the script in my friend's basement. It was like a dam had burst, sending memories flooding into my mind, and soon I felt the tears start to form. 

Our hard work had paid off, my hard work had paid off. I mattered. I was special. I was valued. And all because I worked hard, and sacrificed what I needed to in order to succeed.

I wiped my eyes quickly and looked back at my mother.

“Yeah,” I say, a huge smile blooming on my face once more, “It was.”