Unspoken Memoirs


They See Me As Different

We are all human. We are all equal. But the world refuses to acknowledge this. People are categorized by color, height, width, hair; things that they can not control. The world promotes diversity between people; however, this ends up separating us more than ever before. Black History Month, Asian Heritage Month, Native American Month. All of these help establish the idea that we are lesser and need our own month dedicated to ourselves. Why isn’t there a British Heritage Month, or a French History Month? We do not need this. All this does is promote the idea that we are all different and are not the same. One race or nationality does not deserve an entire month.

I remember a time where I saw humans as humans. I didn’t categorize them by their color, but rather who they are. However, as we grow older, society’s values etch their way into our lives, slowly corrupting our way we see people.

I wish people could see me as human, rather than a color.  

Picture from Pixabay



Lights. Bright lights. This feels surreal. 

Shaky legs. Cameras flashing. 

Metal on my neck.

It’s too good to be true.

… And it was.

Getting 2nd at nationals should have been a dream come true. It should have been a crowning achievement that brought endless satisfaction. It wasn’t. The only thing that medal did to me was put a heavy burden on my shoulders. I loathe that medal. Expectations are all around me, waiting to be appeased. It’s dragging me down. Nothing I can ever do can live up. Up to those expectations. I wish I never won. I wish I never played. I wish I was free. 

Because I’m not.

Picture from Pixabay


My Unique Name

My name, devoid of originality. Starved of uniqueness. Barren of individuality. That is the curse of my name. I long for something unique… something special for people to address me as. When you share the same name with 700,000 people, you are bound to fall into obscurity. And when you share the same world with billions of people, chances are that nothing that you do will be truly unique and your very existence will be lost in due time. 

And that is a pill I have to swallow.

Even though I despise my name, it is still a part of me. It is my identity. And I would never change my identity, for the day I lose my identity, is the day I die. My name is something that makes me who I am.

And I wouldn’t change it. Ever.

Picture from Pixabay



I’m never coming back. Not after they humiliated me. I’ve been with the team since the beginning, yet all I get are derogatory insults and foul comments. I’ve worked so hard. I’ve labored for months to improve my technique. But it’s all for nothing. I can’t give my loyalty to my team if my team can’t give me theirs. They have nothing but complaints about me. 

“You don’t deserve to be a starter.”

“You are too short to play.”

“Why are you even on this team?”

“Anyone can do better than you.”

Loyalty is everything. It cements bonds and friendships. And if that loyalty is betrayed.

Why should I give any to you?


Picture from Pixabay



Improve. Improve. Improve. That’s the precedent set by society. People are never content with what they have, because there is always something to improve. After all, improvement is the driving force of our ecosystem; therefore, if we never improve, then we are useless to society. But how much is too much? Why must we always strive to perfect ourselves, when there was nothing wrong with us to begin with? We have let society’s values impose their way into our lives, without resistance. 

I remember never feeling content with anything that I did. I’d always compare myself to others, which led me to feel unsatisfied with myself. It always felt like I had to be better than everyone else to have any sense of self worth. But, I’ve come to understand that living a life of constant improvement only yields a sad, painful life. Our sole purpose is not to improve ourselves, but to seek contentment with what we have already. I also understand that improvement is also necessary, but it must be in conjunction with contentment. I can be content with what I have, while still striving to better myself in all aspects of my life. We have to maintain a perfect balance of contentment and improvement, and if we do, we can truly be happy. 

Picture from Pixabay


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s