#thevirtueofselfishness

You begin as Howard Roark: selfish, intrinsically motivated, lives purely for himself, and does not let the world stop him from doing what he wants. 

Society pressures and disapproves of you, you fall in love and want to do everything for them, you become too attached to your success and achievements...one of these things gets the better of you, and they take priority over what you want, and the desire to keep this thing makes you forsake all of your personal desires to keep this one thing.

You become Peter Keating: vain, competitive, narcissistic, materialistic, and a people pleaser.

You were given the world by selling out, and you’re riding too high to notice. You sold out to save something, to maintain something you once achieved out of your own greatness, so for a while nothing feels any different. You’re still doing the same things as you always have, and your legacy thus far still supports you. But slowly, things start to change. You start changing, your work starts changing, small at first, but it snowballs. You begin to tailor your work and day to day life off of the feedback of others. Your work begins to reflect what those around you want, not what you want. Your shoulders begin to sag, and your eyes begin to look around for the gaze of others, instead of to marvel at your own creations. Disapproval or criticism wounds you in a way it never has before. Soon, you begin feeling unfulfilled, like you’re on autopilot. You begin getting less praise, and people begin to pass you by. You feel empty, and begin engaging in acts of desperation to be noticed again. You eventually are left alone, and feeling hollow. You realize you have become the one thing you swore to destroy, a caterer to the masses, a people pleaser. You feel despair, a sense of being lost, and like a fraud.

You become Dominique Francon: Rebellious, angry, self destructive, vindictive, bitter, and jealous.

You recognize the monster inside of you, the monster that feeds on vanity and approval. Your despair becomes unbridled rage, at yourself for not being able to free yourself of this prison of validation, and at the world for doing it to you. You become bitter, a harsh critic of those around you, especially those you seek approval from the most. You rebel against all forms of validation, but you secretly yearn for it. This duplicity consumes you, and you begin acting out to quell the bedlam in your head. You seek out others you envy for being strong like you once were, and terrorize them and their creations, hoping to break them in the way the world broke you. You hate seeing creations by these same people, they are monuments of your own weakness, taunting you with their unapologetic boldness. You cannot escape this maelstrom within you, and you surround yourself with people like you, worse than you, to punish yourself. You resign yourself to your fate of being unable to escape this prison of validation. You go on autopilot, pleading for freedom.

You become Steven Mallory: Disenchanted, forlorn, withdrawn, defeated, dejected, and bitter.

You have relegated yourself to your fate; a wayward soul that cannot be redeemed. You wallow in mediocrity, and don’t even attempt to express yourself anymore, because you know it won’t be for you, and because you fear being rejected, or worse yet, accepted. You wander in a fog, and those that once inspired you only make you feel pain. Until you find someone that believes in you, someone that snaps you out of your stupor (this could even be yourself). You slowly build the will to try and redeem yourself, to return to your former glory as an individual once more. You stumble, you fall, but you keep inching toward that goal. Eventually, you make something that you believe in again. You present it to the world, worried that you’re doing it for the wrong reasons.

You become Gail Wynand: Power hungry, ambitious, and self loathing.

You present your project to the world, and one of two things happens. You are accepted and celebrated, and you realize you created for the wrong reason, and your return to greatness is forever tainted, or you are rejected, and you find yourself hurting at the rejection, but you realize that even in your disappointment, that you made something true to yourself. Regardless of which option transpires, there is one outcome: you reject society, their reaction, and any feeling it gives you. If your work was tainted, you tear it down in defiance. If it was genuine, you hold it up for all to see, regardless of reception. You hold it up because it is yours. You are met with harsh resistance and scorn, and are shunned by society at large. Your world is burning, but you are at peace, because you have found yourself again. You have broken free from the prison of validation.

You are once again Howard Roark.