We are spiraling down the staircase of self depreciation, critiquing who we are because we don’t know who we want to be. We are willing to do anything to stand out just enough to get noticed, all while not straying too far from the uneasy line of comfort, praying to be special in the eyes of some while simultaneously hiding behind our masks in front of others. 

You’re not special. 

Crying because our standards do not meet the criteria to fit in this new narrative, wondering why everything isn’t enough. While knowing it’s because you are different, problems are temporary, I know. 

But you are still not special. 

Everyone here is the same. Uniqueness is hard to come by in a world where people only show twenty percent of their personality. Give me more. More is too much. you are crumbling. 

I just wanted to be special. 

It’s ok to share your faults. Wear your insecurities on the outside of your chest to prove you own them. Show the world your scarlet letter to let them know it does not control you. 

Maybe you’re a little special. 

You own who you are. If you don’t like something, you change it. We are avatars. Click through the options till you find one that fits you best. We are sculptures. Like clay, mold yourself into a version you like. 

Everyday you become a little more special. 

Our minds are a fickle thing. It often seems like they are working against us, but you know who is in control of your thoughts? You. Let circumstances play a part in your narrative.

You are special. You always were.