Average, the word you use to describe a lack lustre date, or
a meal where your rare meat turns out medium and you have to sit and eat it
whilst knowing deep down it wasn’t what you asked for but you’re too afraid to
say anything to the angry looking waiter.
When we are younger, we are encouraged to ‘try our best’
which resonates in to ‘being the best’ as you get older. When I was little, I hated
coming second, and I would often get angry with myself if something went wrong
horse riding or in netball. I am fiercely competitive, which I was always
praised for, as it meant I gave it my all.
But suddenly being competitive switched from being competitive
with myself, to being competitive with people I didn’t even know. Scrolling
through social media, I would find myself poking my belly whilst looking at
another girls account. These girls had it all in my eyes, perfect makeup,
perfect body, perfect life. Right? And suddenly it became a competition to do
my makeup better for the next day at work, or perfecting my body by twisting
myself in to weird positions to look as toned and skinny as possible.
For me, being ‘average’ had a negative connotation. Being
average means you aren’t the best, sure you aren’t the worst but still… being
average?
Slowly, being average is beginning to be acceptable on
social media. The hashtag is pulling through vast numbers of posts as people
look to not hate their life, and just find it average. Having high standards is
great, but when Negative Nelly rears her head and tells you to put the doughnut
down so that you can look like Amy off of Instagram Explore when she went on
holiday to Ibiza, then it’s time to sit back, reflect and readdress your outlook
on yourself.

I’ve switched my mindset from constantly wanting to be the
best, to simply wanting to be when I am
struggling with day to day activity. Put clothes on for work? Fabulous. Put
clothes on for work that also don’t ‘go’ together? Fabulous also. I no longer
feel a twinge of irritation as I stand in front of my mirror, sleep deprived
and trying to get through the Wednesday, when I notice my clothes don’t look
how they pictured them in my head. I no longer look at the aesthetics of my
food when I get in from work and throw things in a pan before diving on the
sofa to watch Love Island, not everything needs to be #AestheticDinner or
#InstaFood , sometimes it can simply be a disgusting looking combo of
peppercorn sauce and pasta (no one can judge me for this until they’ve tried
it, you won’t regret it I promise you).
On down days, I look to be average. I get through the day,
purely on being average but feeling content with this, as it stops me going in
to a tailspin when I accidentally scan a document the wrong way round, or head
to my meeting with a pen that has ran out of ink whilst sitting in my desk. It’s
okay to be average, it’s great to be average.
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