Normal and average

I met her just that one time.

There was no fire in that eye neither that jump in her step.

No kohl-lined eyes, no skinny jeans, no girly shoes, no colour on those square nails.

She just looked and walked. Average and ordinary.

Not one to stand out in a crowd, not one to be remembered for a special talent, not one to be called popular, she just walked, normal and ordinary.

She wasn’t that bookworm, that smarty pants, that funny one, that leader, that cool chick, that prankster, that writer, that dancer, that singer, that artist, that creative one, or that extremely pretty girl. She was someone nobody would want to be.



In moments of self loathing and pity and weakness, she wished she was more interesting, maybe someone with a dual life, student by day and rockstar by night, or writer by day and superhero by night, that would be cool or maybe she could be just a little funnier or better looking, or some one who could pull off red nail paint or that full-of-confidence stride.





But I missed something. How could I have missed it?

My eyes had failed to see beyond or past the stereotype.

It was a look of easiness, like someone who had accepted who they were and resolved to make the best of it, a hybrid look of determination and drive that seemed to have grown from seeds of self-doubt.

That walk, that walk I mistook for ordinary, seemed to say, ‘I am what I am’

Those eyes, were deeper and wiser than I had imagined. But they said nothing. They gave nothing away.



She laughed and smiled, jumped and played, loved and lied, gossiped and bitched and did everything everyone else did. She wasn’t that bookworm, that smarty pants, that funny one, that leader, that cool chick, that prankster, that writer, that dancer, that singer, that artist, that creative one..

But she was smart and kind and responsible and fun and hard-working and she didn’t give a damn about being second or third fiddle, she didn’t give a damn about how people though they were better than her at whatever.



She wasn’t a loser.

She wasn’t just normal, average or ordinary.

She was perfect at being her.







Dedicated to all ‘ordinary’ girls. Like me.