Why I’m done with this question

Today the question was posed to me:

Who inspires you?

I’ve never loved that question. It’s always been hard for me to look at all the influences — real, historical, literary — that have affected my life, pick just one, and say about it, “ah yes. This person defines who I am. I want to be just like them.”

My answer to the question: Myself. My-fucking-self.

I am both a culmination of all the influences that have shaped who I am and also something unique and creative, an individual force in the world.

And I can just hear certain critics (there’s one of these in my own mind, believe me) rolling their eyes and scoffing, “Kids these days. The millennials are so self-centered.”

Kids these days indeed. I don’t know if this rings true for all millennials, but I suspect it rings true for a number of them; here’s what I come from: I come from learning, growing up, that I was a good person, perhaps, as is said, a special snowflake. And that somehow, so was everyone else. I was taught that history just gets better and better over time and that today’s world was the best of all possible worlds, as it were.

But I also had a sense that everything I was doing was wrong. In retrospect, we learn about the world, right and wrong themselves, in fact, from making mistakes and realizing the error in them. But at the time, all I could see was the blows to the perfect image of myself I was supposed live up to. I tried so hard to avoid making mistakes that I grew more reserved and anxious over time; I was one of those people “afraid to take risks,” per se.

And then there was that step in life that I believe almost everyone goes through — where you get hit in the face realizing that things in the world just aren’t good and that you, too, as a human, aren’t necessarily that good. You’re actually not that special snowflake and you need to get over yourself. And when you face that given the context of growing up thinking you’re special and amazing, it’s painful. Maybe we learned too well that we were special, but I don’t think most people really hold onto that idea. We know we’re not special. And at the time, it hurt a lot to realize that.

With everything I hear about the world, I become increasingly convinced that it’s a hard world to live in. And I think high school, for many people, teaches you that you’re not good enough for it. Because, as we established, I’m not actually special. And to get by in this world, you need to be special. (See also: to get into college, you need to have straight A’s, speak six languages, volunteer at a hospital, work two jobs, and invent a rocket ship.)

But you know what? I am good enough. So is everyone else. I may not be the best in the world, I may never become famous or do anything of relative importance, I may not be a special snowflake after all — but I am enough for me. I have myself, and that’s all I need.

So who inspires me? A lot of people. But it comes down to just myself. Just me. I don’t need anyone else. I am not going to be a follower.

Maybe I inspired you a little bit in some way, but if I ask the broad question, “who inspires you?” I hope you can realize the answer.

You. You can inspire yourself. Lots of people and forces inspired you and will continue to inspire you in small ways, but when you bring it all into one, you have you. You have everything you need.