Wednesday, 30 November 2011

Someone Special

Disclaimer - totally self-involved blog post to follow – Disclaimer over

I was brought up to believe that I’m someone special (insert joke here now – well done). Someone unique and lovable. I’m an only child and my parents always made me feel like I’m the centre of the universe, because for them I was and I still am the centre of the universe. Sometimes (let’s be real - most of the time) I still think I’m the centre of the universe. Not in a bad, super arrogant, deluded way, just in a natural way - if you can call that natural. Things in my little Linda world tend to revolve around Linda. Hence the blog name. Hence the over-sharing. Hence the sensitivity. I always think everybody feels what I feel, cause I feel it, cause I think it, cause that’s my reality.

But, bada bing bada boom, in the grim real world no-one gives a fuck about how special I think I am because everyone is too busy and stressed and self-occupied to really care. It’s a harsh world out there. Just so you know.

Finally understanding that I’m not the best in class anymore, the one that always gets what she wants and the one that everything revolves around depressed me. Big time. I don’t deal with criticism very well. I don’t deal with rejection very well. I don’t deal with loss very well. But it finally hit me (after long conversations with BFFs and my mum) that change can be good.

Like my mum said: A raw diamond is very beautiful, but a diamond that has been polished for a long time shines even brighter. (Yikes, cue emotional wreck) 

So, ANYWAY, after these long and soul-searching paragraphs (I really am turning into Drake) I thought it might be helpful for anyone that shares my sentiments of occasional self-grandeur to come up with a check-list of how to avoid the traps of human OMG-I’m-So-Special frailty and maybe start working on taking in lives’ lessons and starting to shine. (LOL worst blog post ever?)

No he’s not looking at you, he’s looking at that lipstick on your teeth.
No he’s not looking at you, he’s looking at your see-through top.
The man in the supermarket wasn’t smiling at you, he saw the reduced shelf behind you.
If you’ve done something great, don’t make a big deal out of it.
You probably haven’t done something great, it was merely average, duh. You’re not a rocket scientist.
Not everybody will like you. You’re not Princess Diana. Deal with it.
You’re not Princess Diana. Or Beyonce. Or Marilyn Monroe.
No he’s not looking at you, he’s looking at that bit of spinach stuck to your cheek. HOW MANY DAMN TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?!?
Not everybody thinks that story about how you met Jedward is as enticing as you think it is.
I still love you and I think you’re special. Unless you like Coldplay.

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