"Never let anyone make you feel ordinary."
Big words, right? But here’s the thing—what even is ordinary? Beige? Quiet? Acceptable to strangers in a Tesco queue? I don’t know about you, but I’ve never been good at fitting in a box, especially not one with such drab wallpaper.
From the moment we can walk, we’re handed this invisible rulebook that says: blend in, don’t rock the boat, keep it neat. Honestly? Boring.
Ordinary isn’t real—it’s just a tidy little box that makes everyone else feel comfortable. And you? You weren’t made for a box.
The world is full of people who’ll try to iron out your edges. “Too loud.” “Too much.” “Not like the others.” You know what I hear in that? Fear. Fear of anyone who dares to be bold, or weird, or passionate about the stuff they love—whether that’s obscure novels, your borderline romantic feelings for Centre Court, or the way you refuse to pretend you don’t still listen to early Madonna on full volume.
I used to worry about that, once upon a time. Thought maybe it would be easier if I just toned it all down—talked a little less about my latest book crush, pretended I wasn’t that into the way Darren Cahill stands at the back of the box with his arms folded and that expression like he knows your secrets. But here's the plot twist: being ordinary is exhausting when you’re not built that way.
I’m not here for it.
And I don’t think you are either.
So wear the jacket that makes you feel like a badass. Say the thing. Read the vampire book and the sapphic romance and the slightly weird sci-fi novella about tea monks and sentient robots. Take up space—on the page, on the court, in the room. Laugh loudly. Be seen.
Because the truth is, the people who matter? They're not looking for someone who fits neatly into “ordinary.” They're drawn to your fire, your mess, your sparkle, your depth. They want you, just as you are.
✨ So tell me—what’s something about you that’s gloriously, unapologetically not-ordinary? I want to hear it. Let’s celebrate the beautiful weirdness together.