I make me feel special

Someone came on Twitter and said, “thanks to the people,who make me feel special,” and I had an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach, the one that hits you right where it hurts in the middle of the night.

There is no one in my life who makes me feel special.

I have to make me feel special, and it’s a full time job.

Give me a break.

You have to be strong inside your own head 24 hours a day. You have to be your own personal coach, greatest fan, cheerleader and all round best friend. No one else has your best interests at the heart of everything they do – only you do.

They say that to write you have to tell the truth, but the truth comes at a price, and it’s a luxury only a few can afford.

So I say this to you, I’m my one personal cheerleader, rabble rouser and personal fan.

And you can be smiling on the outside, and be weeping on the inside – but you’ll never hear it from me.

And that’s how it can feel when you wake up at 3am in the dark, alone.

And sometimes you might wonder whether it’s worth getting up in the morning at all, as long as you don’t say it outloud – you might offend someone.

And here are the questions you ask yourself at 3am in the dark, on your own:

Why am I not more assertive and why do I allow people to shit on my soul?

If I dare to say I can have what you want too, and you do that little sneer and the Indian head wobble, and you look at the person on the other side of the room to confirm your own superiority in the eyes of a loved one, why?

Why do I allow myself to deprecate myself to the point of self-hate, so I can make someone else feel good about themselves, but then they give nothing back in return?

Why do I hide my good points just in case it offends someone else?

Why do I allow certain people to manipulate me?

Because everyone else has someone who makes them feel special – and they don’t have to give a fuck about you feel, as long as they’re doing better than you, they’re seemingly more talented than you are, (even when they’re clearly not), and their lives seem much better than your own. So why don’t I help them, why don’t I help you to feel great, while I feel like shit. I’m my own personal cheerleader, but I’ll cheer you on too, and you can wipe your feet on me on the way out.

Yes, you have relatives and friends.

But you don’t have someone who makes you feel special.

That’s what it feel like when you wake up at 3am, in the dark, on your own.

Are you strong enough to make it through the day?

Perhaps you are. Perhaps I am. I’m my own personal cheerleader and I make myself feel special – because no one else ever will, not the way I need it, not the way you need it when someone you’re not related to by blood loves you regardless of your faults and still thinks you’re perfect.

That’s a great feeling if you can get it. It’s like a drug.

When you wake up at 3am in the middle of the night you might feel like you need a fix of that, just so you can see yourself reflected in the eyes of someone who loves you.

Painting by Leonid Afremov. Tango of Love.