Amy+B’s+OpEd+Article



I hate being average. I just can’t stand that word.

At first you would think that being average is a good thing, and in reality it is. I mean at least I’m not bad; but I’m not good either. I am simply average. Maybe I’m being overdramatic; maybe it’s just my perfectionist side coming out, but I can’t stand in when someone says something like, “You’re average.” Well what does that mean? That I’m going to be shoved in the not so bad, but not-good-enough-to-care-about category? That I really have no significantly wonderful qualities about me? That someone won’t even take a second glance at me because I am like every other face they see?

My mom recently told me to, “stop complaining” because “your life is very normal.” And excuse me if I sound like a brat, but I don’t want my life to be normal; I don’t want it to be filled with glamorous riches either, but I want to live fun, exciting, spontaneous life. One filled with random adventures and travels.

Being told that I am ‘average’ makes me feel like I am going to end up working some normal job, coming home to a normal looking house, in a normal looking suburb, living a normal life; and that sounds so inexplicably dreadful that I want to pull my hair out. I don’t want to end up being like another human clone. I would hate to look back on life and wish that I took more risks.

Is it too much to ask for me not be “just average”?