I think everyone has heard the expression of being a big fish in a little pond. Most of us have even felt like we were that big fish surrounded by guppies looking for something more. It wasn't until I read David and Goliath by Malcolm Gladwell that I actually knew the origin of that phrase. Herbert Marsh, a psychologist, was the first to ever record this phenomenon. He looked at how student's performance varied depending on the size of the school. His observation applies to many other situations.
For the past few years, I have been moving around from place to place trying to find somewhere I belong. I did my first two years of college in a smaller town in Ohio, Kent. Where I was fairly known to an average-sized group of people and relatively unknown to the larger populous. However, because I traveled around the same buildings, walked the same sidewalks, and socialized at the same parties, I felt like I knew everyone. In fact, my nickname while at Kent State was "Hollywood". I got a taste of being known and being the big women on campus and quickly wanted more.
I traveled 2,000 miles west to the middle of nowhere to quench that thirst. My next conquest: Bozeman, Montana. Other than college students, the population of this town is 39,860. When school was in session, the population did not increase by that much. If I was Hollywood in Kent, I was the biggest thing to ever hit Bozeman. The town was full of local girls who wore sweaters and jeans to bars. Conversely, being the fashionista I am, would blow the bars wide open with my fancy dresses and heels. I would wear these outfits religiously, even in the dead of winter. Within months of living there, I never got ID'd or paid for a drink. Everyone knew me. I thrived as a social butterfly hopping from bar to bar and social circle to social circle lapping up all the attention I could each and every night.
Living in Bozeman ruined my view of the world.
Two months after finishing college, and after I brief stent in Ohio, I moved to Las Vegas. Now I know New York is the city that never sleeps, but if that is true, Vegas is the city that never naps. Upon moving, for the first time in my life, I became a little fish in a big pond. People who have lived there for a while have earned their keep. However, even with nine months under my belt, I'm still bottom feeder. I am not the hottest, most fashionable lady in this town. I'm just one of the many pretty faces trying to stand out. Sure, I have my friends, and when we go out, we get hit on, we get drinks bought for us, and hell, I still don't pay to get in anywhere. However, my perception of who I am compared to what's around me has completely changed.
This theory is called relative deprivation. Although the theory seems simple enough, it was first observed in World War II. This theory was developed when soldiers in multiple military branches compared themselves to other branches, and their perceived value and self-worth went down.
Its human nature to compare yourself to what else is out there, but the person I am or the way I look didn't change when I moved to Vegas. I'm still the same charismatic woman that I was in Ohio and Montana, and my value isn't tethered to the perceived value of those around me.
I'm lucky I lived in Bozeman, Bozeman gave me the confidence to live in Vegas. I'm lucky to have lived in Vegas, Vegas gave me the reality check I needed before my ego grew too large. I think the time I spent in each area was just enough to grow and learn, but not too much to build me up or bring me down.
For those out there in a big pond feeling small, you're a big fish somewhere. And for those out there feeling big, you're a small fish somewhere. A lot of life is about perception and how you let your surroundings dictate how you feel, but you can't change the world. You can just change the way you view it.
