Mediocrity

Mediocrity. Ah, that word. It's been following me around for almost my entire life. You know what I mean, right?

When I was younger, I sang in a choir. I had a good voice, and I loved singing, but I was never exceptionally good at it. I've also always loved drawing. I took art classes after school, learned, created, experimented. And somehow, I was always pretty good at everything I tried. But I was never one of those naturally gifted people who make everything look effortless, whose work leaves everyone speechless.

I've always felt the same way about my appearance. My figure is pretty good, and I'd say my face is more attractive than not. Yet I've never been truly happy with the way I look. My breasts are too small, my hips are too wide, my chin is too pointy. There was always something I could find fault with.

My body was actually one of the reasons I started working out. I did CrossFit, and I was pretty good at it. I could handle the intensity, I loved pushing myself, and I genuinely enjoyed the challenge. But of course, I was never the best. There was always someone who could lift heavier weights, perform the exercises with better technique, or was simply more skilled than me.

It's been the same in my professional life. I'm a graphic designer and art director. Back in art school, I was always among the better students. My projects had strong ideas behind them, and I was usually pretty good at bringing those ideas to life. In fact, my graduation project received the highest evaluation ever given at the school up to that point. But I never became some kind of star designer. Somehow, I always felt I just wasn't that good.

And then there's painting, which is especially relevant to my life right now.

I scroll through social media, looking at other artists' incredible work, and with every swipe, I start feeling smaller. A painting of mine that I used to love suddenly doesn't seem so great anymore. I start noticing more and more flaws, more and more things I would do differently. And slowly, that cruel feeling of mediocrity begins to settle over me.

And do you know why?

Because I've spent my entire life comparing myself to other people.

Even before the internet existed (yes, I'm that old), and especially since then.

As if it actually mattered.

As if someone else's talent, achievements, success, or appearance could somehow change my own. As if someone being prettier, more talented, or more successful than me automatically made me less. But what someone else is capable of doesn't change who I am or what I have to offer at this very moment.

And don't get me wrong. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be better. More skilled, more attractive, more successful. I can grow, learn, and push my own boundaries.

But on my own terms. For myself. For my own happiness.

Not because comparing myself to others makes me feel like a piece of shit.

I know it's hard. It's incredibly hard to break the habit of constantly comparing ourselves to others, especially in a world where almost everything encourages us to do exactly that. Social media, advertising, billboards. We're constantly surrounded by images of what we should look like, how we should live, and what we should achieve before we can finally feel good enough.

We want to look like other people. We want to be as successful as other people. We want to travel to the same places, live the same kind of lives.

And somewhere along the way, we might not even notice that we're losing sight of our own.

But what if we took all that energy we spend chasing these often unrealistic ideals and invested it in ourselves instead?

What if, instead of focusing on where everyone else is in life, we asked ourselves what we could do, right here and right now, within our own circumstances, to become the best version of ourselves?

What if we simply put our phones down once in a while and, instead of endlessly scrolling, spent that time doing something that genuinely helps us grow or makes us feel fulfilled?

I'm not going to pretend I'm above any of this. I get lost in my feeds all the time, too. Sometimes I catch myself staring at my screen, realizing I have absolutely no idea how much time has passed. And when I finally put my phone down, I feel terrible thinking about all the other things I could have done instead. Things that might have helped me grow, or simply made me feel better.

Because time keeps passing.

Whether we spend it watching other people's lives or actually living our own, time passes just the same. And while we can't control every circumstance in our lives, we do have a choice in where we direct our attention and energy.

For example, about six months ago, I started letting go of the idea that I needed to paint like someone else. That I had to create paintings like this or that artist, just because I admired their work so much, or because they'd already achieved something I was hoping to achieve myself.

Instead, I started paying closer attention to what truly speaks to me. To what wants to come to life through me, rather than through the influence of someone else's work. To what comes from a deeper, quieter place within myself, a place I can only discover when I turn my attention away from the outside world and look inward.

But that's a story for another blog post.