So you know how in my “about” page, I wrote that I used to want to be a celebrity and have everyone care about me but that phased had passed. I think I lied.
There is still a big part of me that wants to be famous. Of course I don’t know what I’d be famous for. Too short for high end modeling. Can’t sing well enough to make an album. Don’t know if I’m any good at acting. Hate sports. What does that leave?? Haha.
I don’t know why I want to be famous. I think the introvert in me would hate it. Though the money that usually accompanies it would be nice.
I guess I’ve just always wanted to be recognized. I feel like I have so much to offer the world and no one ever acknowledges me for it.
Maybe that’s just childhood naiveté and arrogance. Maybe I have nothing special to offer. I mean really, why should people I’ve never met care about me??
That’s something my parents would say is wrong with this generation. They’d say kids these days are so arrogant and self absorbed. They think everyone cares about them and they should be entitled to special treatment.
I don’t want special treatment, I just want to feel special.
I always resented the attention I got as a child because it revolved around my musical talent. I never asked to be good at playing instruments, but suddenly I was and the adults couldn’t get enough of it. I found myself pursuing this talent I didn’t want because other people didn’t want me to “waste it”.
I guess I’ve just always wanted some recognition for the other things I do. My parents are the only ones who are ever proud of my good grades. No one I know in real life compliments me on my writing.
Maybe I just don’t put myself out there enough to receive said potential compliments. Maybe that’s my problem, I’m not adventurous enough. I tend to be the kind of person who doesn’t like to do things if there’s a possibility I may fail. I don’t like failure. I think I’m a bit of a perfectionist.
*sigh* I don’t like being a perfectionist. It makes simple decisions really difficult. And the funny thing is, I’m not a perfectionist with things that matter. I don’t really care if I make Bs in school. I don’t really care if my room is clean or whatever else. But I can’t leave the house without makeup on. I have an obsession with matching and never looking “frumpy”. When other people are involved in the situation it gets even worse. The other day I spent like 15 minutes trying to decide which pasta to cool for my family. The only difference between the pastas were the spices.
😞 I don’t feel like talking about this anymore. It’s too depressing.