The Price of Achievement

It’s 2 a.m. I should be asleep. In about six and a half hours, I’ll be sitting in my pre-calculus class, preparing for a summative exam that makes up a big chunk of my grade. But here I am, lying in bed since 8 p.m., hoping for a good night’s sleep. Then, in a fatal turn of events, I reach for my phone. After just a few clicks, I’m scrolling through Instagram. What follows is a deep dive into what Gen Z calls the doom-scroll—a period of complete focus on nothing but the endless stream of content on my screen. 

Ten minutes later, I’m spiraling. My feed is filled with college admissions breakdowns, application analyses, and “expert” advice from people I’ll never meet. By 9 p.m., I’m inconsolable—overwhelmed with fear about something I barely even understand. That fear takes over me, and I carry it into my exam the next morning. 

Achievement pressure is a psychological and emotional burden many of us carry, especially in high-achieving, competitive environments. It’s the overwhelming stress that comes from trying to meet—and exceed—expectations tied to success and accomplishment. 

And here’s the truth: I’m a victim of this pressure. And if you’re reading this, you probably are too. 

Like so many of you, I’m part of an incredibly privileged group. We have access to everything we need and more. We go to private schools, live in safe neighborhoods, and have families who can afford far beyond the essentials—and I couldn’t be more grateful. We have it all, yet somehow, we’re more stressed than anyone else. You might ask: how can kids who “have it all” be struggling more than those from lower-income backgrounds? 

Suniya Luthar, a Yale psychologist, studied American teenagers and found that those from affluent communities were actually more likely to suffer from depression, break rules, and use drugs and alcohol than their peers from lower-income areas (Luthar, 2022). The common thread? Excessive pressure to excel. 

In these communities, students are constantly competing against one another. Small ponds, big stakes. Leadership roles, internships, competitions—all coveted by the same group. Many of us are surrounded by high-achieving parents who want us to do even better than they did. Meanwhile, the world feels like it’s shrinking. College acceptance rates keep dropping while application numbers skyrocket. Yale’s acceptance rate is now below 4%, compared to 25% just 40 years ago. And today’s students are far more likely to earn less than their parents did at the same age, even after adjusting for inflation. Scarcity breeds fear—the fear of not succeeding. So how do we cope? We achieve. 

We’re taught that our worth is tied to how well we perform—how many likes we get, how popular we are, how smart we seem, how many trophies we collect. But that relentless chase leads to one thing: chronic self-doubt. We start questioning our worth based on our accomplishments, constantly comparing ourselves to others instead of recognizing our inherent value as human beings. 

At the core of this pressure is a simple desire: to matter. Everyone wants to feel like they matter—to friends, family, teachers, and peers. But we’re taught that we only “matter” if we succeed. So what happens when our sense of mattering depends solely on achievement? That’s the real problem. 

During adolescence—the time we’re supposed to be discovering who we are—we’re instead being taught to win at all costs. The cycle of relentless achievement leaves little room for reflection or self-discovery. We’re told, directly or indirectly, that our value depends on performance—and the more we achieve, the more we matter. 

This pattern hasn’t always existed in American culture, and it’s rare to find elsewhere. When I visited Germany, I stayed with a family of five—a history teacher, a stay-at-home mom, and their three soccer-playing sons. The father told me something I’ll never forget: “In my country, we believe we are all equal, regardless of status or wealth. You and I. Me and my boss. We are all the same.” 

That mindset changes everything. It allows people to understand that they matter not because of what they achieve, but because of who they are. 

In America, though, we’re pressured to “find a passion” or a “spike.” Ironically, that pressure often leads us to fake one—to craft a persona, pretend to be passionate, and perform enthusiasm just to keep up. We end up building identities shaped by external expectations, not genuine self-understanding. 

The result? A world where achievements define us, and failure leaves us questioning who we are. 

By age 26, students from high-achieving schools are two to three times more likely to struggle with addiction compared to their middle-class peers (Center, 2018). Why? Because their sense of self was built on achievement—and when that identity is threatened, when they’re no longer “the best,” it all falls apart. 

The most important task during adolescence is developing a personal identity. But when that identity is built around performance, we create a facade. For many of us, achievement has become the definition of childhood. But who are you without your medals, grades, or accolades? 

Now imagine if everything you’ve achieved—your grades, awards, accomplishments—was taken away. What would be left? Who would you be? 

The truth is, we’re all on the same sinking ship built by society’s obsession with achievement. We might bail out water for a while, but unless we fix the leak at its source, we’ll all eventually sink. 

The cycle never ends; more academic pressure, more sports pressure, more peer pressure. Stress spreads like wildfire in this environment. When one kid joins another competition or club, others feel they must do the same—not for growth, but to stay competitive. Instead of celebrating each other’s success, we compete, we compare, and we try to stand out. Our peers become obstacles to beat, not partners to grow with. 

One high-achieving student once described high school like this: 

“Little to no downtime. 

 Toxically competitive. 

 Friendships are limited by the pressure to compete.” 

They went on to say, “When another student gets an award, I don’t think, ‘Good for them.’ I think, ‘I should have worked harder. I deserved that. I should be the one up there, not them.’” The culture of achievement won’t change overnight—but it can start with us. Talk about the pressure. Be honest about the burnout. Check in on your friends and be kind to yourself when you fall short. Schools, parents, and students alike need to remember that mental health is not negotiable—it’s essential. If we want a generation that thrives, not just survives, we have to build a world where being well matters more than being perfect. Also remember you can also create a healthy relationship with achievement by speaking with a mental health professional who can help identify negative though processes and give you the tools to redirect those thoughts into more positive and helpful ways of thinking. For help finding mental health professionals near you, use the Teen Connect Tampa Bay searchable directory or click the connect button to get connected to resource navigators that can find professionals for you! 

- Nishant, Teen Connect Youth Advisory Board Member 

Ybor Youth Clinic  - You can learn more information about making an appointment here! 

References 

Center, D. P. (2018, January 2). Study Shows Correlation Between Growing Up in Affluent Communities and Addiction Risk. Decision Point Center. https://www.decisionpointcenter.com/blog/2018/january/study-shows-correlation-between-growing-up-in-af/ 

Luthar, S. (2022). Speaking of Psychology: The mental price of affluence. Apa.org. https://www.apa.org/news/podcasts/speaking-of-psychology/affluence