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I have always wanted to be like my brother. He seemed like a god to me: his test scores elicited blank stares, his basketball skills left me in awe, and yet he managed to be a kind and friendly person. I could not conceive how this was possible.

I wanted to achieve the same glory Anatol had brought upon our household. I wished to study harder and to pass my tests with flying colors. Even my friends, awestruck by his reputation in school, expected me to perform with the same capacity guaranteed by the mark of his last name.

But my brother, sensing my growing admiration, told me to be myself. Of course, I ignored him. I could not accept not being able to emulate his actions. This was what I wanted to be! I felt as if I was destined to fit into his shoes and perform the same -- and maybe even better -- deeds than he had done himself. I was to be the successor to the Tsang lineage! But as unreasonable as it was, I decided to take the challenge I created for myself. I am his brother, after all -- how hard could it get?

My earliest attempts were met with success. Top scores were easy to attain. No effort was required to excel in my classes. I breezed past my freshman year. Life was easy and I was well on my way to stardom. But then, school became harder. In my sophomore year, my grades slipped. My broken straight-A streak spelled disaster. My AP test results were unsatisfactory. My mind could not contain the sheer amount of information my teachers dumped upon us month after month. Emulating my brother became increasingly difficult. The methods I applied did not work: studying hour after hour made me sleepy and working with others only resulted in collective laziness and idle chatter. I struggled for a long time to understand concepts that seemed to be mere child's play to Anatol. And as if my academic slump were not enough, I could not even play basketball as well as he could! It became apparent that I could never match my brother's feats. I soon lost interest and pushed myself less and less.

The lack of success I experienced came to the attention of my parents. At first, they offered the same advice day after day: try harder. Nothing happened. Seeing that it was of no use, they then took a different approach. Oblivious of my now debilitated mental condition, they started pushing me. They threatened to rid me of my Internet privileges. They kept me under tight surveillance to ensure that I was actually studying. They constantly asked me to study and perform well on my tests. I quickly became angry and mistrusted my parents. I refused to speak to them, they shouted louder, and we all became frustrated.

Finally, when I discovered that I had lost my prized valedictorian status, my burdens crushed me. I cried alone in my room, wondering how the universe turned upside-down. I recalled the days when achieving my goals was within reach. What had I done wrong? Why is everything difficult now and not then? I desperately turned to my brother for advice. He repeated the warning I had initially ignored: "Just be yourself." He went on to reassure me that I was not in any way a failure; in fact, he thought of me as determined and hard-working. He acknowledged that I was an entirely different person with a different mind and a different personality. He continually reaffirmed this, and little by little, I regained my confidence.

I decided that I would not be another Anatol, not another study machine; instead, I concentrated, developed, and improved on things, both great and tiny, that my brother could not do. I practiced speaking to others without feeling shy or nervous. I learned to make others laugh and compiled a repository of jokes for my own use. I improved my ability to play tennis, something Anatol had never tried. I developed my ambidextrousness by using chopsticks with my left hand. I learned to play other songs on the piano to entertain my friends, not just the classical songs of famous old composers. Sure, Chopin may be amazing, but listening to Disney songs is much more enjoyable. I experimented and tweaked my computer to run Linux, an open-source operating system that drove my family insane because of its complexity.

At last, my parents finally realized and acknowledged the hard work I put into changing myself. I will never forget when my mother patted me on the shoulder and said, "Bryan, I am proud of who you are." Now I no longer feel a need to be somebody else. The best person to be is myself.