A Superhero! Me?
Ever since I was little, I wanted to be a superhero. Up until my eleventh birthday, I was convinced that I was a wizard, and would attend The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I liked to pretend that I had powers over the elements, or the ability to speak to animals. I would jump around my yard, over and under the swings, imagining that I was like Captain America and could do flips and awesome karate moves. Truth be told, when I’m alone in my house, I still form a finger gun with my hands and sneak around the house, pretending to be a spy to the music from Mission Impossible.
I’ve never really been fond of the word “normal”. It feels too bland, too unoriginal. I know that some people like to say “you are unique”. However, sometimes when I hear that I tend to think “but so is everyone else”. In a way, I understand that there never was, and never will be, someone exactly like me, but I still think it would be cool to have some kind of hidden ability that would distinguish me from everyone else, even if it was kept a secret that only I knew about.
In addition to being awesome, super powers would give me a higher purpose. In works of fiction, superheroes never have to wonder what the point of their life is, because they are too busy fulfilling their own life goal; saving the world. I’ve always felt envious of those superheroes, because they know what the point of their life is. They know what they want to accomplish. I, on the other hand, am prone to feeling directionless and jumping from one hobby to the next.
Because of this, whenever I read or see someone with powers saying something along the lines of “I wish I was normal”, or “I just want to be like everyone else”, I feel like screaming. I want to throw something at the TV, or chuck the book at the wall, and yell “Stop complaining! Everyone else wants to be like YOU!” I’m not sure if other people feel like I do, that having powers or being famous would be incredible, but I know it sure frustrates me when those people don’t appreciate the gift they have. “Enjoy it!” I want to shout. “Because not everyone gets to do what you do!”
However, when I think about what I want to shout at those people, I feel hypocritical. Who am I to tell them to appreciate what they have, when all I do is wish that I was them? They might be wishing they were normal, but while I’m yelling at them to be happy with their deal, I’m ignoring all the wonderful things about being me.
The truth is, I have nothing to complain about. Sure, my life can get hectic, and my cats sometimes leave me “presents” to discover as I’m walking down the stairs. Yeah, I might get frustrated with math, or want to rage when I’m failing at Frogger, but at least I don’t have to worry about saving the world or taking down a corporation of villains. I don’t have the responsibility of protecting an entire city by myself, and I never have to fret that I’ll get arrested for being a vigilante.
What Can You Do To Become A Superhero?
There are so many things that we can do everyday to be superheroes. Perhaps not quite as interesting as lifting a car off of someone, or catching a falling building, but we can show the heroes inside of us on a smaller scale. When I was working concessions one afternoon, there was a younger girl that sat near my table for most of the second game. We were both preoccupied with something, and didn’t talk or make conversation. At the end of this game, I had to put away the table and candy. Usually, I’ve had my mom there to help move the table, as it is pretty heavy.
This time, however, I thought I would have to do it by myself. As I was struggling to turn the table on it’s side without dropping on the floor or my foot, the younger girl that was near me walked over, and helped me move the table. She helped me turn it over, close up the legs, and move it to the wall with the other tables. Between the two of us, the table wasn’t as heavy, and the burden seemed lighter. I didn’t know her name, and I never even had to ask her for help. She saw me struggling, and decided to do what she could to help, with or without superpowers. In my opinion, that is the true definition of a superhero.
Maybe, as much as I want to be a superhero, the superheroes want to be me. Normal, average, totally ordinary…but still original. I may not have super speed, or laser eyes, or the ability to fly, but I’m still me. Reader, writer, Supernatural fanatic. I don’t have powers, but I still have the ability to help others with whatever talents I possess. I’m not perfect, but no one is. Not even the superheroes. Next time I want to yell at a character for not appreciating what they have, I’m going to think of everything I have, and the fact that while I don’t have powers, I’m still me. And that’s all that really counts. See you next week!
“Reprinted from Hagel Publications, Inc. dba as Courier Newspapers”