TGIF! – I am so special!

(just like the other 172,063 others who like this word porn)

“You’re like an onion”, The Hero said the other day as we were talking about ourselves.

“You mean I stink?”, I replied.

He gave up. When we’re both quoting an animated movie from 15 years ago, we know we need a break. He’s right, though. I am multi-layered and complex. I’m the mysterious black magic woman Santana warned you about.

Look, here’s  some word porn to prove how different I am…

If someone thinks I’m as mysterious as all that, I’d never argue with them. Why should I? It’s  like disputing a good horoscope.

How about this one? Look how sensitive I am:

How profound. It absolves me of complete responsiblity for killing a relationship. I don’t just like it. I love it. I’m so sensitive I should have a special allowance for passive aggressive bleepiness. 

You can sometimes couple this stuff with some pseudo-scientific psycho-mumbo-jumbo.

Again, I’m so special and sensitive, see?  If I have an unhealthy approach to conflict it’s  only because it’s in-built and I’m the  rarest of the rare personality types.

It doesn’t matter that the framework is widely debunked and unreliable.

By God I am speshul. Word porn tells me so.

My zodiac sign tells me so

 Being a woman is an automatic ticket.

Being a mom makes me super duper, duper special

I don’t know if any generation has ever endured this level of onslaught of motivation and reassurances of being special. I’m exhausted. I don’t want to be special. I don’t need to be reassured how amazing I am. Firstly, being unique means nothing

Secondly, everyone and everything can’t be special. Here’s the dictionary meaning of special:

distinguished by some unusual quality; especially :  being in some way superior 

Special is literally going the way of literally. It’s getting to the point where the word has no meaning anymore

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