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Coming-of-age is an opinion column where Ateneans share their thoughts on a specific topic that fits Vantage’s beats. From in-depth analyses of TV series to miscellaneous musings in music (and everything in between), this is a space to spread and inspire thought-provoking ideas.
In this column, Vantage Magazine staffer Jezelle reflects on how recent artists’ rebrands taught her that breakthroughs are not just because of luck, but of tenacity, audacity, and enormous amounts of self-compassion.
THE SUMMER before junior year, I had a mid-college crisis. I had just finished a project that drained the life out of me, and the sudden feeling of stillness felt uncomfortable. So, I went job hunting but refused the first offer I received, thinking that I could get better opportunities. However, two months passed, and I got no other offers.
Nothing made me feel more worthless than the multiple rejection emails I got almost every week—each one a hypothetical slap to my face, reminding me that maybe I wasn’t actually good enough.
I thought that if I waited patiently for my turn to get those blessings, the universe would reward me abundantly. However, I don’t know which epiphany hurt more: that waiting led me nowhere, or that blessings were not earned through prayers, good deeds, and unwavering fortitude. Even if it felt like second nature, that summer, I loathed doing what my instincts told me to do—wait.
In the act of anxious anticipation, I came to the conclusion that my hard work could never surmount the sheer talent other people had. Hard workers yearn to be great, but talented people are born into greatness. Unfortunately, I recognized that I wasn’t the latter. Many of my friends would argue—they would say I’m one of the most talented people they know, but I believed that they had mistaken my talent for desperation.
Whenever I open social media, I discover that loathing-the-wait turns more into loathing-the-self the longer I compare myself to those who inevitably receive more for doing less. And quite frankly, I could feel the summer crashout of 2025 waving at me just around the corner.
By habit, whenever I felt a crashout coming, I turned to music to shake off the negative energy. I see the artists on my screen and wonder what it feels like to be the exception to the rules of stardom. In my head, I was no different than singers who had to wait for their time in the spotlight.
Zara Larsson and Sabrina Carpenter were artists I casually listened to before their glorious rebrands. I’ve watched how listening to Sabrina went from niche to mainstream, and how listening to Zara went from outdated to trendy.
However, one rebrand I specifically look up to is Addison Rae’s and how she went from cringe to having that pop icon energy. Much like everyone else at the time, I did her TikTok dances and rode the hate train when Obsessed came out, but my perspective clearly shifted as I tuned to Diet Pepsi on repeat.
Then and there, I realized the secret to her breakthrough was her undeniable desire to flourish. Good things come to those who wait, but the universe always rewards tenacity over patience. We wait because, like flowers, our growth takes time, rain, and grace to fully bloom. It is an act that requires so much self-compassion to plant roots and bear fruit. Perhaps receiving the world’s favor might take a long time, but I’m only 21. Isn’t that the point of the 80 or so years we have on earth anyway? That we wait our turn, knowing everyone else is waiting for theirs, too.
So, maybe waiting isn’t so bad.
While having the time to wait is a privilege, the capacity to know which endeavor to pursue is a kind of foresight gained from having guts. We are so dead set on avoiding mediocrity when, in reality, we all start there at some point. Good fortune may seem godsent, but so much of our fates are man-made. To quote Seneca, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.” In other words: chances are earned, destiny is forged, and strategy outweighs capability.
So, is it really that bad to be mediocre? We all think of ourselves as unlucky and undeserving, but we wait because we prepare. In the end, wanting, waiting, and working aren’t far from each other because miracles don’t come by luck; they come by persistence and grit.
