Achievements once felt like coins in a video game—items I constantly chased and collected. To me, they felt like validation, an attestation of my efforts that feel impossible to carry out today. The medals, reminders of a long-gone identity, now hang timidly on a wall, collecting dust and lacking the sheen they once glimmered with.
I was once a podium regular, undisplaceable from the batch rankings. The advanced know-how even took me to Singapore for a math contest. But as soon as the highs arrived, came also the steep crashout. This hit me with the reality that most golden children face: our shimmer eventually fades into a daunting despair.
At first, it was a twenty-mistake sixth-grade Science exam, an outlier from my usual performance. The disappointment stung, and so did the seemingly endless post-dinner admonishing that followed. Over time, the cracks became more evident; near-effortless achievement became a distant dream. Now, I have near-misses with 0.0s, overwhelmed by the stacks of information required for long exams, as I lag behind my peers.
The expectations felt lighter in a small school. Attaining skills beyond what was expected for my age meant attention was directed less at me, and teachers were confident I could get by with minimal instruction. But once I was thrust into the larger world of a science high school and, subsequently, a top Philippine university, the stakes were made clear and the consequences were set in stone. The once-golden child has lost his luster.
The concept of the “golden child” has emerged in recent years, referring to children who are often put on a pedestal for excellence. While not always, they eventually become burdened with the pressure to excel while looking for praise and validation.
Among other things, golden children can end up as people-pleasers, believing that conforming to expectations is the only way to garner affection or, even worse, love from the people around them. The development of narcissistic tendencies has also been connected to some golden children, as the overemphasis on achievements can lead to a lack of empathy and healthy relationships.
As these children mature, the expectations change as they are exposed to more competitive environments. When I was enrolled in a science high school filled with powerhouses, self-doubt made it quick for me to compare myself to my “golden age,” questioning how I’m unable to accomplish tasks and comprehend concepts as easily.
The close-knit nature of Filipino families didn’t help as well. While my parents eventually toned down the idealization of my “achiever” stereotype, I would still be subjected to such at extended family reunions or gatherings. The questions “Anong award mo?” and “Anong rank mo?” would no longer work because I was no longer the bright kid they looked up to, just an average student surviving in a real-world environment.
(What award did you get? What’s your rank?)
The often-overlooked counterpart of the golden child is the scapegoat. In large families, they become points of comparison, the glittery image of their sibling being hung around as an example for them to follow. It leads to their own demise, struggling to find their own identities as their siblings’ paths to success are also forced upon them.
The strain between these siblings may even develop into resentment and feelings of inferiority. While my sister and I have long acknowledged this strain, its effects once reached a fever pitch in my early adolescence, but for some siblings, they never even get the benefit of recognizing that discord, further straining family relationships even into adulthood.
Parents must acknowledge when their confidence oversteps boundaries and they begin to overestimate their child’s actual abilities. While praise is beneficial, it should be intended to inspire their child, not pressure them. But more than anything, achievements aren’t the only things worth celebrating—efforts, resilience, and even curiosity are worthy of praise and attention as well.
The dusty medals that hang, still slightly gleaming when touched by sunlight, remind golden children of a reality seemingly impossible to replicate. But that reality doesn’t need replicating at all. Learning doesn’t need to be done for achievement; it should be genuine and constructive, not just enforced.
A golden child is never just once golden. Like real gold, one might be stripped of their luster, but even throughout time, they will never lose their value.
This article was published in The LaSallian‘s October 2025 issue. To read more, visit bit.ly/TLSOct2025.
