If you were called a "gifted kid" growing up but feel like you've underachieved as an adult, psychology says there's a reason that has nothing to do with laziness

Growing up, I was one of those kids who got pulled out of regular classes for "enrichment activities."

The teachers called me gifted, and I wore that label like a badge of honor. But here's the thing nobody tells you when you're eight years old and acing every test: that same label can become a weight you carry for decades.

If you were also labeled gifted as a child, you might know exactly what I mean. Maybe you breezed through school without much effort, got praised for being "so smart," and everyone expected great things from you.

Fast forward to adulthood, and you're wondering why you haven't cured cancer or started a billion-dollar company yet. You feel like you've somehow failed to live up to your potential, and the guilt is crushing.

Well, I've got news for you: psychology says there's a fascinating reason for this, and it has absolutely nothing to do with being lazy.

The gifted child syndrome is real

When I was sorting through boxes while helping my aging parents downsize last year, I found a stack of my old report cards. Every single one had comments like "exceptional student" and "works above grade level." But you know what else they all said? "Could apply herself more" and "needs to challenge herself." Even when I was excelling, it was never quite enough.

This is what researchers call gifted child syndrome. It's not an official diagnosis, but psychologists have identified a pattern where children labeled as gifted develop specific traits that can actually hold them back as adults. These kids often grow up with perfectionism, fear of failure, and an identity so tied to achievement that anything less than extraordinary feels like failure.

Dr. Paula Prober, who specializes in gifted adults, explains that many gifted children never learn to struggle or develop resilience because everything came so easily early on. When they hit inevitable challenges in adulthood, they don't have the coping mechanisms others developed through childhood struggles.

Your worth became tied to achievement

Here's something I had to confront about myself: I was addicted to achievement. Gold stars, perfect grades, academic awards. These weren't just nice to have; they were how I knew I mattered. Without constant validation of my intelligence, who was I?

This is incredibly common among former gifted kids. When your primary source of praise and identity comes from being "smart" rather than from effort or character, you internalize that your worth depends on continued exceptional performance. The problem? Adult life doesn't hand out report cards.

In the workplace, success often depends more on networking, emotional intelligence, and persistence than pure intellectual ability. Relationships require vulnerability and emotional risk-taking, not perfect test scores. When the metrics change but your need for achievement-based validation remains, you can feel lost and inadequate.

The perfectionism trap keeps you stuck

I recently read Rudá Iandê's new book "Laughing in the Face of Chaos: A Politically Incorrect Shamanic Guide for Modern Life", and one quote really struck me: "When we let go of the need to be perfect, we free ourselves to live fully—embracing the mess, complexity, and richness of a life that's delightfully real."

This insight helped me understand something crucial about my own perfectionism. For years, I wouldn't start projects unless I could guarantee they'd be exceptional. I'd rather not try than risk producing something mediocre. Sound familiar?

Psychologists call this "perfectionist paralysis." Former gifted kids often develop such high standards that they'd rather do nothing than risk doing something imperfectly. We procrastinate not from laziness but from fear that our efforts won't meet our impossible standards.

The book inspired me to examine how my perfectionism was actually a form of self-protection. If I never fully tried, I could always tell myself I could have succeeded if I'd really wanted to. It was safer to remain in potential than risk discovering my limitations.

You never learned how to fail

When everything comes easily in childhood, you miss out on a crucial life skill: learning to fail and recover. While other kids were developing resilience through struggle, many gifted children were coasting through without challenge.

I remember the first time I truly failed at something in college. I was devastated. Not just disappointed, but completely shattered. My identity couldn't accommodate failure because I'd never had to integrate it before. This is what psychologists mean when they say gifted children often have "fragile self-esteem." It looks strong from the outside but crumbles at the first real challenge.

Dr. Carol Dweck's research on growth versus fixed mindsets explains this perfectly. Gifted children often develop fixed mindsets, believing intelligence is static. When you believe ability is innate rather than developed, any struggle feels like evidence you're not actually smart after all.

The comparison game becomes toxic

Social media has made this worse, hasn't it? Now we're not just comparing ourselves to the kid who sat next to us in gifted class. We're comparing ourselves to everyone we've ever met, plus millions of strangers showing their highlight reels online.

Former gifted kids often struggle more with comparison because we're used to being at the top. When you grow up consistently being the smartest person in the room, finding yourself average in adulthood feels like failure. But here's what I've learned: most gifted kids grow up to be regular adults with regular jobs and regular lives. And that's completely okay.

The pressure to be exceptional in everything can prevent us from excelling at anything. When you're so worried about not being the best, you might not even try. Or you spread yourself so thin trying to excel at everything that you never develop deep expertise in anything.

Breaking free from the gifted child burden

So how do we move forward? How do we release ourselves from these patterns that no longer serve us?

First, we need to separate our identity from our achievements. This is harder than it sounds when achievement has been your primary source of validation for decades. I started by noticing when I sought external validation and asking myself what I actually needed in that moment. Often, it was reassurance that I was enough just as I am.

Second, we need to embrace being beginners again. Take up something you're terrible at. For me, it was gardening. My first attempts were disasters, but there was something liberating about being bad at something without my self-worth crumbling.

Third, we need to redefine success. Maybe success isn't about being exceptional. Maybe it's about being content, contributing meaningfully to your community, or simply enjoying your life. These might sound like consolation prizes to a former gifted kid, but they're actually the real prizes most of us are seeking.

Final thoughts

If you were a gifted child who feels like an underachieving adult, please know you're not alone. You're not lazy, you're not a failure, and you haven't wasted your potential. You're likely dealing with psychological patterns that made sense when you were eight but don't serve you anymore.

The transition from gifted child to fulfilled adult isn't about finally achieving enough to justify that early label. It's about releasing yourself from the burden of having to be exceptional. It's about learning that your worth isn't conditional on your achievements.

Most importantly, it's about understanding that the feeling of underachievement might have nothing to do with what you've actually accomplished and everything to do with impossible standards you've internalized. You don't need to cure cancer or change the world to be valuable. You just need to be human, flawed and real, doing your best with what you have.

That gifted kid label? It was just that: a label. It described certain abilities at a certain time, but it was never meant to be a life sentence. You have permission to be ordinary, to struggle, to fail, and to be happy anyway. In fact, that might be the most gifted thing you could do for yourself.