<![CDATA[anju’s Substack]]>https://strawbeeriey.substack.comhttps://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!fcgH!,w_256,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F67d259b1-a693-484e-8293-c3f62e75d56f_338x268.jpeganju’s Substackhttps://strawbeeriey.substack.comSubstackMon, 22 Jun 2026 15:45:51 GMT<![CDATA[unique and mediocre coexist in me]]>https://strawbeeriey.substack.com/p/unique-and-mediocre-coexist-in-mehttps://strawbeeriey.substack.com/p/unique-and-mediocre-coexist-in-meWed, 26 Apr 2023 12:46:13 GMTMy name means special. It has always been kind of ironic since it is a very common one rendering it very unspecial. I'm not complaining about my plain name though, more so about the meaning behind it. Throughout my life, I have always wanted to be special. I pretended that I had superpowers no one knew about, I pretended to be an inventor who came up with concepts like backscratchers and special glasses to watch your dreams. I don't doubt that many people shared my experiences( maybe not the inventor one). Funnily enough, when people actually asked me what I wanted to be, I had no idea. A doctor? Nope, don't like to poke around with the human body, the stuff I do know is freaky enough. An engineer? What do they even do? Astronaut? Space is cool but scary too.
I always felt like I was constantly searching for something that made me special. And no, I'm not talking about people, not necessarily, but more of a talent. Something that made me stand out. After all, everyone around me seemed to be doing their own thing. Some were intelligent enough for quiz competitions, some were artsy enough to be in charge of decorating the class board. I say enough because I am also intelligent and artsy, just not enough to be recognised as either.
I was never the best Kathak dancer but I was not too terrible to get yelled at either. I was always okay at painting but not good enough for my art teacher to brag about my paintings or to be known as the artist friend in the group. My parents always expressed frustration with me for not having a passion or ambition for anything I did. I wish I did. People always said to practice but I always felt discouraged when people were automatically better without practice. I felt like I could nowhere reach the same level through sheer hard work. So I never tried.
I'm not a very fun person either. I presume people who are usually meh at their talents usually balance it out with their bright and bold personalities. I don't have that going for me either. I am a very reserved and shy person. I tend to be a bit more exuberant when I am with people I am very close to, but I am never the ‘favourite friend’.
When I was younger, I hated being glossed over. I still don't but I'm more used to it. in friend groups, there is usually the "cool " friend, the "funny " friend, the "pretty " friend. I am probably the "she's just always here" friend. I have a very random memory of my crush complimenting everyone in our friend group. I remember him calling one friend "pretty and cool" and another "funny and lovable". I was just skipped over. It wasn't that deep and no one noticed. I didn't even react. I just stopped liking him.
I don't necessarily blame him but blaming him is easier to feel bad and fix myself. I'm not pretty either. Now I can already hear the people booing but I truly never felt beautiful. Maybe I am pretty but I don't think I'll ever know. I'm also fat. I don't want to hate myself for being fat because fat people are beautiful. But being fat is hard. I cry every time I go to the mall, my back pains all the time and the pudge sticking out whenever I sit down is really distracting
So what do I have? I don't know. People only notice you if you're either the best or the worst. I am mediocre. Maybe I am being too critical of myself, but in some sort of sadistic way, I like to do that to myself because I feel like I don't deserve peace in my head. I feel like I always need to be insecure, something to be jealous about, something to fix. In 5th grade, it was my arm hair which started growing more because I went through puberty earlier than everyone else. In 8th it was the distance between my thighs, in 9th it was my height. After 11th grade, it was my intellect.
Why did my parents choose this name for me? Did the universe want to mock me forever? It feels like I am an empty page getting filled and erased leaving crinkles all over.
I still have a sliver of hope I can be something though. You can always fill up something empty. Yes, I have tried to fill it up many times with a lack of success. I think that just means I can be whatever I want. I can fill up my canvas however I like and I can always change it. I guess I try to find comfort in the fact that I can at least be mediocre at most of the things I do than be restricted to one single talent I'm exceptional at. I guess that's what makes me unique.

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