The Pursuit Of Being Average

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.