I turned to the world of culinary arts as a way to de-stress after tiring class hours. I was deeply
intrigued by how creators express themselves and their cultures through flavors, and decided
to pick up cooking. Little did I know that I not only found a way to channel my creativity, but
also a courage booster to cope with my fear of failure.
When I first transitioned from watching videos to recreating recipes, my self-consciousness
prevented me from making any personal decision. Would I add too much salt? Too little
tomato paste? Slowly, I worked to overcome my fears, following recipes step by step, my
confidence growing alongside my skills. I was most proud when I successfully made
Bolognese pasta––a dish from outside of my culture. Receiving praise from my family eased
my nerves a great deal. However, even as I improved my skills, I remained inflexible in my
approach. I strictly followed recipes, unable to adapt them to my own tastes.
My fear of failure was not limited to the kitchen. I had a terrible track record in public
speaking: when I stood face-to-face with the whole class, my voice started trembling, my
knees shaking. Each time I tried to present to others, I began to question myself and became
paralyzed by overthinking.
Cooking helped me work through some of these insecurities. Once, after adding too much
cornstarch to my chicken soup, I panicked and almost threw out the whole batch. But I took a
chance and added more water to thin it out; to my delight, it worked like a charm. Another
time when I was planning to make cabbage and chicken cakes, I accidentally sliced the
cabbage too thin. In that spur of the moment, I decided to improvise and make a chicken and
cabbage salad with passion fruit sauce instead. As I sprinkled cilantro on top of the dish and
proudly showed it to my parents, I realized that I had learned to go with the flow and make
the best out of what’s available.
This newfound confidence gradually permeated into other aspects of my life. In 11th grade, I
had an opportunity to participate in the Model United Nations. I was familiar with the
concept, yet I was still nervous. Encouraged by my mother, I decided that this was the perfect
opportunity to confront my anxieties and tackle my fear of public speaking.
Immediately, I was intimidated by the experienced attendees. How could I hope to compete?
What if I said something wrong? When I was called up front, fear flooded me. I was about to
quit, but I soon remembered the lessons I had learned in the kitchen. I recalled how tasty my
chicken and cabbage salad could still be even after the ‘accidents.’ Maybe if I cared less about
strict standards and embraced spontaneity just like I did in cooking, the result would not be
too disappointing. I took a deep breath, gathered all my courage and delivered the speech. I
was over the moon when, rather than judgment, I was showered with praise from my peers.
From there, my outlook changed. I started experimenting with new ingredients to create more
interesting flavor combinations, and added my own spin to recipes that I thought were simple
and dull. Just as confidence fueled my creativity in the kitchen, it made me open up and eager
to speak my mind. When working on a brief with my team at another future Model UN
conference, I remembered their reaction to my speech, and overcame my anxieties about
contributing. When my suggestions made it into the final proposal, I was overwhelmed with
excitement. Ultimately, we did not win any official prize, but I was pleased that I had become
more confident when sharing my ideas. I have eventually learned to embrace
experimentation, understanding that joy lies more in the journey than the destination.