How Does Workbook For Mindset By Carol S. Dweck Apply To Daily Life?

My mom is an HR professional. She uses KPI to determine my entire life. "If you get into the top ten of your grade, you'll receive a B grade as well as a bonus of 500 dollars. If you can achieve a ranking at a state-level competition, you'll receive an A grade as well as a bonus of 1,000 dollars. Of course, if you can get into a top-tier university after scoring well in your SATs, I'll give you an S+ grade as well as a year-end bonus of ten thousand dollars!" I work my ass off in my studies and manage to earn the offer letter to a top-tier university. But that's when my mom puts a contract in front of me. "Congratulations on getting hired. From today onward, your allowances will be determined by the total of your base salary, KPI, as well as your full attendance award. "Your base salary is 500 dollars. It's to make sure that you won't starve to death, at the very least. In order to help you adapt to workplace stress in advance, I'll check on your progress randomly. If you don't meet my requirements, I'll deduct your salary." When I'm down with a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit, my mom deducts my full attendance award, claiming that my physical attributes aren't up to par. In order to catch up on my studies, I've completely forgotten to submit my weekly report to my mom. Because of that, she suspends my allowances. So, I have to sell my blood to a hospital behind her back just so I can survive. At the end of the school term, I show my mom my grades as well as the certificate to my scholarship, thinking that I'll be eligible for the highest KPI and the bonus. But that's when my mom tells me coldly, "The company has decided to give your S+ bonus to your younger brother as a form of investment. After all, he has more potential to achieve better results compared to you." As I gaze down at the 200-dollar consolation prize, I can't help but laugh. It turns out that I'm not even worthy of being recognized as a good employee in my mom's company.

My mom is terrified of being laughed at by others the most. Whenever the holidays are here, she will keep repeating one sentence to me—"Don't go around embarrassing me." When my relatives gather around and chat with each other, I accidentally knock a fruit platter over. Mom drags me over and slaps me on the spot. At the holiday feast, I grab extra pieces of steak for myself. Mom responds by kicking my chair over. When it's time for the holiday gifts to be distributed, my aunt, Gabriella Hall, has miscalculated the number of children present among the family. So, she has prepared one less gift for the occasion. Mom doesn't hesitate to kick me out of the apartment, leaving me shivering in the cold corridor in just my indoor clothes. The icy winds chill me to the bone. I keep slamming my palms on the front door while screaming and crying my apologies at Mom, and yet she remains unmoved and silent. Instead, she turns to face Aunt Gabriella with an apologetic smile on her face. "I'm really sorry. I didn't raise my daughter well. It's only fair that you ridicule me." What Mom doesn't know is that I get triggered whenever I hear the word "ridicule" thanks to her so-called parenting lessons. Whenever I hear that word, I want nothing more than to hurt myself uncontrollably. So when I hear the word "ridicule" coming out of Mom's mouth through the front door, I turn on my heel quietly and begin making my way toward the bridge next to the neighborhood that's plunged into darkness. The moment I jump from the bridge, the only thought I have is, "Mom, no one will ridicule you because of me this time."

My younger sister, Joey Crawford, and I have taken the exam 20 times in a row. Yet, our answer sheet shows the exact same answers every time. No matter how fast I complete the exam, Joey is able to turn in her paper one second before me. My homeroom teacher, Mr. Harris, has spoken with me three times regarding this matter. At the same time, I receive my first warning for cheating on the exams. Whenever my classmates see me, they say to me, "Hey, cheater! You got busted this time, huh?" The thing is, I've never even touched Joey's paper. How can our answers be exactly the same? During the college entrance exam, I suddenly awaken to the ability to see the live comments dangling in midair. "The female lead is the chosen one! It must feel amazing to have awakened the mind-reading ability and all!" "She relies on reading the side character's mind just to obtain all the answers. So what if the side character excels in her studies? Her role is to become the female lead's stepping stone to success!" It turns out that Joey has been stealing my answers by reading my mind this whole time. As I flip the exam papers over, I start singing the alphabet song mentally. "A-B-C-D-E-F-G…"

In order to stop me from spending money recklessly, my mom has exchanged my college living expenses into coupons. If I need to buy anything, I must buy it online. Also, I need to send a copy of my expenses sheet and the details behind said expenses to my mom so that she can check everything thoroughly. Only when she's given me her permission can I buy that item. When I tell my mom I want to buy a shirt, she tells me, "I remember you could still wear that shirt back in your high school days. You should just stick with it. Why waste your money on new clothes?" During winter, I can only wear the old sweater I've been wearing since my high school times while huddling in a corner of my dorm and nibbling on a sandwich. Meanwhile, my mom smugly posts a picture of the six-thousand-dollar dress she has just bought on her social media feed. "What a beautiful dress!"

Everyone in class can hear my thoughts, but there's a catch—the "thoughts" they hear have been deliberately altered. During the exam, while I swiftly fill out the answer sheet, the rest of the class stays put. They eagerly wait to hear the answers in my head. [The answer for this is C, of course. These questions are exactly the same as the ones Ms. Clarke revealed to me. I'm going to be the top student again without even breaking a sweat!] Everyone else immediately copy my answers. Ultimately, apart from me, they all end up failing the exam. During our swimming class, my leg cramps, and I start sinking underwater. I try to scream for help, but my classmates hear something entirely different in my head. [I'm going to act like I'm drowning and see who's the idiot who jumps in to save me. Hahaha!] In the end, they all watch indifferently as I drown. My eyes open again. I've gone back in time to the day of the exam. This time, I can also hear these "thoughts" of mine that have been altered.

I have just fallen asleep after working around the clock, but my mom insists on dragging me to the supermarket first thing in the morning. Having mistaken us for sisters, the cashier compliments Mom for her youth and looks. But after Mom explains to her smilingly that we're mother and daughter, the cashier's eyes go wide in disbelief. With mixed feelings, she says, "You… You look more like the daughter, though…" That remark leaves me shell-shocked for a moment. Then, I turn around to stare at my and Mom's faces in the mirror. Mom has such smooth and supple skin that she looks like a 20-year-old college student. Meanwhile, there's me, looking like a 50-year-old hag because of the freckles and dark spots covering my face. Mom's smile vanishes instantly. "How dare you speak that way! Are you saying that my daughter looks old?" Since I don't have a good night's sleep, I become uncontrollably pissed. Just as I'm about to curse at the cashier, I catch a glimpse of the crow's feet around Mom's eyes disappearing rapidly from the corner of my eye.