There is a question I get asked a lot, and I’m never sure how to answer it. It’s a fairly innocuous question, one I’m sure everyone is asked at one point or another, but I just don’t know what to say.
The question: Who is your hero?
And this is the part that confuses me, that makes me wonder if I’m missing some essential part of being human that everyone else has, because whenever other people are asked that question, they provide some well-known name and everyone somberly nods in understanding, but when I’m asked that question, my instinctive answer is I don’t have one. I usually don’t say that, though, because it seems terribly impolite, so I generally just pick a name at random that will make people smile and then go away.
Why do I say this? Because I want to be the very best, the one everyone else looks up to, the shining example of greatness.
I want to be the hero, and people tend to look at you funny when you say that to them.
But is this arrogant, is this wrong? Is it that absurd to want to be the best? It can be, if approached incorrectly. You see, my goal is to win but to do so with empathy and within the boundaries of the game. I want to win knowing we all had a fair chance but that my skills were superior. I want to know that it was me winning, not some drug, not some cheat, not some hack. I want to win because I enjoy the competition and the victory and being the best on the field, not because it leads to fame or prizes (though those can be a nice by-product, not gonna lie).
I want to win by building myself up, not by tearing someone else down.
I want to win because I made myself better, not because I made you worse.
The weird thing, however, is that I need only one person to know it, and that’s myself. I’m the only person who can truly judge if I gave it everything I had, if I really was the best. Sure, it’s nice if other people notice, but they don’t know everything that’s gone into anything I’ve done. I’m the only one who knows that, who truly knows if I put in the effort necessary.
I’m the only one who honestly knows if what I achieved was for real.
Unfortunately, there are a lot of people who don’t view life this way. There are a lot of people who want to be the hero, but for a very different reason. There are a lot of people who think that if they fool people into believing in them, the ends justify the means.
Lance Armstrong, Barry Bonds, Joe Paterno; political hacks and religious hypocrites of all shapes and sizes; any of the countless steroid users and god-mode enablers and outright cheaters who think that getting the numbers equates to getting the victory, who are willing to do whatever it takes outside the lines because they don’t actually care about winning. They think they care about the winning, but they want the reward, the recognition, the spotlights and snapshots as they chase a goal they’ll never attain.
Their hero?
Not themselves, or anyone else. No, their hero is a myth, a falsehood, a belief that the approval of self can be attained from the adulation of others, because who knows any heroes who weren’t famous? We wouldn’t know whom to look up to if they were unknown, after all.
Unfortunately, when they find the spotlight, the fame and fortune, there’s always that little nagging sensation in the backs of their minds, that hollow pit lurking in their stomachs. Some bury it deep, but it’ll never go away completely, that one tiny refrain.
Would I have been good enough to do this on my own? Would I have been good enough to win the right way?
The answer is: You’ll never know.
You’ll never know if you had what it takes to be a hero. You’ll never know what it feels like to be the best, the very best in the world, at something without having to cheat. You’ll never know what you were truly capable of because you never trusted in yourself enough to believe—to believe that you could rise up to the challenge, any challenge, no matter how great or impossible the odds. You’ll never know that unadulterated feeling of triumph that comes with victory, not over others, but over yourself.
You’ll never know what it is like to do the right thing.
I pity these people. Their victory is not the victory of fair play, of being better than another, of striving to achieve and succeeding. Their victory is actually a defeat for themselves and all the people around them, people who actually thought these cheaters were heroes, people whose trust and hope has been repaid with lies and disillusionment.
People ask me, “Who is your hero?”
My answer, my true answer, is that I am my hero, the me I aspire to be, the very best at everything I put my hand to, treating people with dignity and respect because it’s the right thing to do, surmounting obstacles with justice and empathy and compassion. I don’t need anyone else to live my life for me, to mold me, to tell me what is or isn’t possible. I don’t need a path to follow.
I create my own path. I live up to my own dreams. I demand greatness of mind, body, and spirit, not someone else’s, but my own.
I am my own hero. Are you yours?