Weight of My Ordinariness

Some days I feel crushed by the weight of my ordinariness.

Do you?

I guess we all feel it, at some stage. I guess?

Our self believe can be very frail. For some. Apparently, not at all.

Those confident guys, with handsome faces and perfect skin, perfect bodies and perfect grins. They never know what it’s like not to fit in.

I remember handsome Canadian David, when he was travelling, and was looking for hotels, particularly, shall we say, in orientation diverse areas, he was told more often than not when he went to pay, the pretty ones don’t have to pay.

I don’t know it so much, myself. I’ve always had friends I could call my group, but, I do wonder some days if I am good enough.

Good enough?

It is a concept we need.

It is hard to believe, some days, that I am good enough. When my hair looks a sight, and my self-esteem is in retreat. My face looks fat, and my pants feel tight. My teeth are yellow and my eyes are red. Okay, my teeth never, actually, look yellow, and my eyes are only red when it is something I have smoked myself. But you know what I mean, some days we need help.

Good enough, it is the only benchmark we have to exceed. Only for ourselves, it's not normally someone else’s needs. It is what we do to ourselves, and it is only ourselves from such thinking who need to escape.

You know, mostly, nobody else gives a shit. They are all worrying about their own self-esteem.

It is in our own heads where we need to do the work.