I’m writing this under the assumption that everyone feels like they are the lead character in a movie/TV show at some point in their lives. I used to think about that a lot when I was younger. “Hmm, people must think I’m really cool.” Yeah, chief, about that…
Going slightly off topic, I should mention that there was a brief period when I first moved to Canada where I felt like I was a supporting character in my own story. That now makes me realize just how important it is to have representation. But more on that in another post (maybe next week?).
A few days ago, I started thinking about my story (it was super random), and I realized that it is, without a doubt, uninteresting. Maybe even boring. But it’s not uninteresting or boring to me. In fact, quite the opposite. Does that make sense? Let me explain.
Think about every great piece of content you enjoy. What makes it great/enjoyable? Usually, and this is not a rule of thumb by any means, it’s drama. We humans loovvveee that shit, don’t we? Actually, now that I think about it, it doesn’t even have to be good! Remember when that train wreck of a show called ‘Tiger King’ came out? Try scripting something like that. You can’t! Even if it pained you to watch it, you couldn’t take your eyes off it. Humans eat that shit up! Just to be clear, I’m not pointing fingers. I’m one of you, I promise.
If you took my story and created a TV show, forget people watching it and talking shit about it on social media. Or even getting a measly 2.5 stars on IMDb. No network would even pick it up. It would NEVER see the light of day. That’s how uninteresting it is, and I would be lying if I said that makes me unhappy. I would honestly have it no other way.
A couple of months ago, I was walking on Queen Street with a good friend of mine. I don’t quite remember what the conversation was about, but I remember I was the one doing the talking when this white homeless man said something to me. My buddy just went, “what the fuck,” and I was confused because I didn’t hear what the man said. My buddy said, “I didn’t catch exactly what he said, but it was something racist.” Now, a character in a TV show would probably go back and say a few words to the homeless dude. Maybe they would ask the homeless dude to repeat what they said. Me? I said, “ah, fuck it. I didn’t hear what he said, so I’m gonna pretend it didn’t even happen.” Told you. No drama. (I do want to mention that this was the only time anything racist has happened to me in Canada. And I lived in Peterborough, a predominantly white city, for about 15 months. Although it was in the middle of a global pandemic, so it wasn’t like there was much opportunity for the racists to do their thing.)
Take even what happened like a week ago. The girl I like told me that she didn’t like me the way I like her. Yeah, I know. Ouch! Now, a TV character would have maybe picked a fight with the woman and asked how that could even be possible. And we would have silently judged him for being incredibly stupid and not realizing that feelings just… happen. Or he would have gone on an alcohol/drug binge, and we would have been right there with him. I am, and I can proudly say, much more “normal.” That night, the food I ate was healthier than usual (and I won’t lie, I’m on a healthy diet). I then read a book and meditated for a bit to calm my mind down. See? I told you. Nobody wants to watch that shit. (As a side note, even though she probably won’t read this, I do want to appreciate how respectful the girl was during our conversation, and I hope she felt the same way.)
This does make me think about what I used to be like when I was barely an adult. Man, just thinking about it makes me cringe. That version of me would have 100% been a part of a TV show. And not the good kind. It’d be one of those shows that gets a 4.5 or 5 on IMDb, but people would watch it and go, “God, these guys are the fucking worst. Where’s the popcorn?!” Can I just take this moment to say how glad I am that I’m not that person anymore?
I mean it when I say that my life is interesting to me. Sure, it is a routine in many ways, especially with our friend Omicron still doing the rounds, but all things considered, I love my life. I have a job that I (mostly) enjoy, a good set of friends I like to hang out with, I’m making a conscious effort to develop good habits (putting my thoughts into words is one of them), and I’m trying to become a better version of myself every day. What’s not there to like?
A couple of days ago, a co-worker friend (I have only known her for a little over a month) told me that I’m a good person and give good vibes. That genuinely filled my heart with happiness. And, my friend, if you happen to read this, know that like attracts like.
If we were to have a sole purpose in life, it should be to make people happy. Let me be clear. You are a part of “people.” Don’t ever forget that. Make people happy but remember to also make yourself happy. Unconditional love begins with you, my friend. It took me a long time to realize that. I used to believe that you needed someone to become whole. A partner. Friends. Family. Someone. But, I now know that the only person that can do that is you. And, when you make yourself whole and really love yourself and your life, your story will be uninteresting. And that’s a good thing. Because it’ll only be uninteresting to the “audience.” But, to you, it will be one that makes you happy. (Is this starting to sound like a LinkedIn post? I really hope not, because I HATE LinkedIn!)
I don’t want to drag this post on like every sitcom that overstays its welcome, so I’ll end it here by stealing something that my psychotherapist says. Be good to <insert your name here>.