Don't Feel Bad

It isn’t a secret that I have given up on trying to be like you. I used to believe that it was required of me to fit the foot print that you left behind. Here’s the only thing I have to say to you, your feet are very small. There is so much more to life than you. Didn’t you know that we are equal, but at the same time, individual. Ironic, isn’t it? They tell us we are to be treated the same, then they say, be your own person. I don’t much enjoy this game. My entire life, I have strived to be different from you. Instead of taking what I’m given and pretending to be happy, I take what I’m given and make it better. I make everything personal. That breath, that one you just took, that’s fine for you, but me? I have to give my breath a rhythm. One- two- one. In, out, in.
It’s not a personal attack; it’s just that you are boring. There is no color in your smile, no bounce in your step. It’s fine for you, but me? Not so much.
My goals eat your goals for breakfast. Your goals aren’t even nutritious. Your goals are the sweet, rot-your-teeth, bog-you-down pop-tart. I eat your goals and then have to run a mile, just to kick them out of my system. If I was a club, my bouncers would have to mop you off the floor so they could make room for the people who need to be thrown out. It’s not that you are trash; you’re doing great things with your life, but me? I’m doing so much more. One day, you’ll wake up and say, “Hey, isn’t that, that weird girl, the one who just didn’t fit?” You’ll ask this, because I’ll be the one creating the foot print you just can’t fill. It’s not your fault; your feet are just too small. If I were you, I’d blame genetics. But I’m not. You.
It’s not a personal attack; it’s not your fault. It’s just that you’re not me. To you, that may be a good thing. But when the world goes searching for the next original thing, they won’t seek you out. Nope, you’re just too boring. Boring isn’t a standard for me. It’s a tragedy.
Your whole life, you’ve been average. Hey, that’s great, for you, but for me? Nope, average just won’t cut it for me. I have to be the best. I have to be the one that makes you turn your head as I walk by. You’ll say, “What was that? Did you see it?” Just for the record, that was me.
When you look in a mirror, I hope you like what you see. I hope you think your features are pleasing. Because you’re the only one. To everyone else you’re just a face. My face, it may be different. It may not be beautiful. But I’ll tell you what, it’s the face. The face you’ll always wish you could be. Be ready to live in this shadow. And believe me, it’s a big shadow.
This isn’t a personal attack, you’re just not me. To anyone else, this may be the best thing to ever happen to you. But to me, this is just sad. Your efforts are futile. You will try and try and try. But you will always fail. Because there is only one me. As sad as that is for the world, there is only one me. I quite like it this way.
I want you to remember, your mom, dad, aunt, uncle, cousin, partner, sister, brother, they think you’re special. And you are, for you, but me? You won’t ever be good enough. Don’t feel bad, it’s not that big of a deal. You don’t need to be unique. Your life can be just as fabulous as mine, if you make it. But it probably won’t be. I’m sorry, but my rise to power is now. Yours? Yours was twenty years ago with all the other beauty queens.
-Jessica D.Hunt