“What’s your talent?” This is a question that gets asked often. Some people answer without hesitation:
“I’m good at singing!”
“I’m good at dancing!”
“I’m good at drawing!”
But what about me? What about someone who’s always been the below-average person? What am I good at? What part of me stands out?
For some, answering “What’s your talent?” is as easy as answering “What’s your name?” But for me, it’s as impossible as counting the stars in the sky. It’s a hard question because I don’t know the answer. Or maybe my talent is like the exact number of stars in the sky—it will always be unknown.
There’s a part of me that believes we’ll discover our talent at the right time. So, I’ve tried different hobbies, hoping that one would be the answer, that I would finally find something to be proud of. But I failed. I failed and realized that I can do many things—just not well.
It’s like walking through life in a fog, seeing others race ahead while I stumble over my own feet.
It’s devastating to watch others do something perfectly, without effort, their faces calm, while I struggle, confused and making mistakes.
Why can I do things but never do them well?
I hate that I see the talented as who I want to be, while they see me as someone they’d never want to be.
I feel like a star that was born without a spark.
I’m a star in the sky that never got the chance to shine.
I’m a star in the sky, invisible in the dark, while others glisten.
I’m a star in the sky that’s always there but never stands out.
Can you spot a star that’s lost its ability to shine in the deep darkness?
Can you recognize me in a room full of talent, while I stand there with doubt, trying to climb a ladder that doesn’t exist?
What is the cure for mediocrity?
Is there something I can do to lift myself from this state and finally excel? It’s heartbreaking how much I wish for just one talent, yet all I’ve received is emptiness.
Is it too much to ask to be happy, content, and proud of myself?
Is it too much to wish not to feel disappointment, envy, and mediocrity?
Maybe being mediocre is an inherent disease, one without a cure. You live with it, and you die with it.
If there’s any cure for mediocrity, it’s acceptance.
Acceptance that you’ll always be the one who does things at an average level, someone who’s there but never seen, someone who tries hard but always falls short.
But is acceptance really the cure for mediocrity?
No, there’s no cure.
Acceptance doesn’t make mediocrity vanish. It only makes your pride, self-esteem, and hope disappear, leaving you with nothing but a hollow emptiness.
Mediocrity is a disease—an incurable disease.
It’s a slow decay, a shadow that follows, a silent thief that steals your light before you even realize it was there.