Normal.
Adjective.
Conforming to a standard;
usual, typical, or expected.
Something I have always wanted to be.
I used to strive to be normal.
A normal weight.
A normal height.
A normal intelligence.
A normal student.
Because normal students got along just fine in the world.
Normal people had families and jobs and did not get into much trouble.
Normal children had worries about appearance,
And couldn’t get to sleep because they were thinking about what to say to their crush.
I had worries, of course I did, but they weren’t what was perceived as normal.
I worried whether people would see that something was wrong with me medically.
I couldn’t sleep because I was worried if I would wake up the next morning.
I worried every second of the day if I would be perceived as weird or different.
I Thought that everyone who knew about my abnormalities treated me as if they were all that I was.
I wanted so desperately for them to see me as more than just my problems.
But of course, I tried my hardest to be normal,
I desperately wanted to be something I was not,
Because normal was a safe zone,
A comfort amidst a world of unpredictability.
I thought that if I could just be like everyone else, I could be happy,
I could be free of my problems.
I could hide and be safe; at least for a while.
When I was younger, I believed there was a way to cure my abnormalities.
I would sit for hours thinking of ways to accentuate my normalness.
To hide both my physical and mental problems.
To be more like your average kid and less like a child plagued by a chronic illness and various mental ones.
Years of trying, and still my efforts remained fruitless.
Some time later, I finally came to a conclusion.
An answer to why I couldn’t reach this level of normal that everyone strived for.
I learned that Normal can’t fix your broken world.
It cannot help keep your crumbling relationships intact.
It does not hide your problems or insecurities,
It holds you back from being yourself and those motivational posters in classrooms telling you to be different may just be right.
Because Normal is a curse, a disease, a problem.
No matter how normal you are people will still beat you down and tell you that you are not good enough.
Not normal enough.
Not the same.
It doesn’t help you in life
to constantly concern yourself with the thoughts of others.
Distracting yourself day after day thinking,
when will they like me? When will I be accepted?
When will I be normal enough?
People want you to be your own person, but gawk at the one’s who follow their words.
Being told to conform, to be beaten down to comply with authority.
Being a follower,
conforming to every social standard.
That’s not how civilization advanced so far,
and that’s not what will keep us advancing.
Normal is unusual.
Atypical.
Unexpected.
Different.
No one can be perfectly normal,
so why strive for it?
No one can achieve a perfect state of normalness.
So why should I try?
Why care at all?
The weird quirks,
the differences in personality,
the genetic mutations.
That’s what will drive our society forward;
what will ensure our survival as a whole,
and what will let some rise above the rest.
Unusual.
Adjective.
Not habitually common or done.
Unique.
Different.
Me.