Dildos and Aftershave

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Disclaimer: The title has nothing to do with my post (clickbait city).

I want to fit in, but I also want to be myself. I find this game of tug o war the hardest. I want to be liked so bad that it feels like a disease I can't heal from. 

But fighting who I am seems to make me feel worse. This is who I am. I still remember as a kid pretending I was Jesus. I'd literally attempt to work miracles (the healing ones were largely unsuccessful btw). I thought, maybe if I was powerful/talented/useful, I would be loved. 

I think this human tendency to want to be different but also want to be included is normal. All of us are so different and unique. But then we have these certain individuals we name celebrities, and we treat them like they're the pinnacle of some societal pyramid constructed by someone we've all forgotten. And then THEY become the norm, the thing to be, the "end goal" of what it means to be a cool person.

Myths surround these hero characters with large muscles, energy for days, and a ballsack that just dusts the fuckin floor. These motherfuckers waged wars with titans, carried wooden crosses uphill, saved Private Ryan, and seduced Penelope Cruz. 

We look at these fuckers, and it's no surprise we create wild expectations for ourselves to live up to that notion of a good life, of a happy, fulfilled existence. What a crazy fuckin concept we've created here. 

How do we think we could be able to enjoy this short life we have if in order to "fit in" or whatever, we're supposed to die as millionaires sleeping with Brad Pitt & Angelina? If our standards forever remain this high, we're doomed to pining after a lost cause.

That's one of the weird things I noticed about therapy. Something I'd hear a lot was "why don't you drop your standard of a perfect life down to a good life?" Some part of me resisted hearing that. I'd think that maybe not becoming famous/wealthy/fuckin hot would make me a failure. 

I want to see a new, authentic version of a hero. The guy who, like ole Jimmy Stewart, says "hot dog" and gets his ears boxed in by a shady pharmacist. A guy who goes to work and deals with customers. A girl who struggles with her adopted child. A child who struggles with an eating disorder. These are the unsung heroes, the ones who are just themselves, not striving, not pining, just living. Fuck goals and fuck expectations. We're here now baby. 

And we're not here long. 

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