I Am No Longer The Averagest Unsuperhero

I am normal, not average, and I am pretty god damn okay

When I first started on Medium I had no idea how much of an impact it would have on my life. Nor did I know what kind of rough emotional shape I was in at the time.

A couple of years ago my marriage was struggling, my mental health was barely treading water, and life itself felt like pushing an impossibly large boulder up a sheer cliff. And I was just an average guy. What chance did I have?

Ironically, one of my favorite pieces to write was The Averagest Unsuperpower. Self-deprecation was a food group. Shame was my beverage of choice. The piece is about how I’m very average at everything I do. As much as it doesn’t represent me now, I still find it hilarious. It also reminds me of how far I’ve come.

What I didn’t realize at the time is that I had created the averagest caricature to represent the person who was afraid of putting himself out there. I hid behind being average because I was afraid of being anything but. What would people think of me? Who did I think I was?

It was fear. I was afraid of the power within me. I had given so much of it away, I didn’t know how to take it back, and I didn’t know what I’d do with it if I had it. I was suffering from shame-based fear of being ordinary.

My self-worth was at an all-time low because of the coping mechanisms I had picked up throughout my life. The complex traumas that came from childhood, alcoholism, and having kids left me reeling. I simply didn’t think I was worth anything above average.

Well, my friends, I’ve learned a few things over the last couple years. As it turns out, I’m not average after all.

Normal, yes. Average? Fuck no.

Alcoholism is a huge part of my self-discovery journey, and so is writing. I wouldn’t be where I am today without both — the upsides and the down. I’ve been able to tackle the alcoholism over the same time frame that I’ve been writing here. Coincidence? Hmm.

As I engaged with other writers here I saw more and more people like me out there with the same kinds of fears, worries, and insecurities. There’s a world of people out there writing about their personal journey through addiction, and suddenly I felt less alone. Sobriety became something within my grasp instead of some abstract, unachievable concept.

It made me see that thousands of you all had some pretty fucking amazing stories much like mine. Except for some reason your stories were worth telling and mine weren’t.

What???

Even if you can’t see them, there are words between my words that only I know. Feelings I had while I was writing these stories — some funny, some heartfelt — but all real. It goes to show how people are so multi-faceted. When I look back at my stories, I can feel the pain behind them. I can read codependency and addiction and poor coping skills.

Along this road I’ve learned how dependent I was on many around me, and how dependent I was upon alcohol. As I began to take my power back from alcohol, I worked through codependency and attachment issues on my way towards personal sovereignty.

Recovery is a constant battle, but the impossibly-large boulder has turned into a manageable stone, and the sheer cliff into an Appalachian climb.

It seems like it should be, but it’s not easy to ask for what you want — especially when you are swimming in shame. If I’m honest with myself, I couldn't identify what I wanted. It made no sense that my life shouldn’t be sacrificial to my family. I couldn’t comprehend that I needed to ask for what I wanted and that others wouldn’t know automatically, and that it was okay to have needs.

I didn’t know how to set up healthy boundaries and make myself happy. Always looking outside myself for answers, rarely within. The truth is that we will always be judged by others, but the only thing that matters is how we see ourselves.

Many years were spent angry and resentful. I’d lashed out at my wife for the way things were between us, never bothering to look in the mirror. I was angry at the world for treating me poorly when I was really treating myself poorly. Oh, the unfairness of life, and how awful it can be.

When people lash out about something, it’s ALWAYS a sign that they didn’t handle their own shit.

Well, I’m finally handling my own shit.

The days of toxic codependency are gone. The days of valuing what others think above what I think are gone. The days of burying my own thoughts and feelings are gone. The days of seeking others’ approval, having trouble communicating, and identifying my own needs are behind me.

You know that thing on a plane about putting your own mask on first? There’s a reason for that.

My averageness classification kept me from loving who I was, and subsequently, keeping me from loving others as well as I could. I’m proud of who I’m becoming, and look forward to the things I’ll accomplish. I’m no longer angry at myself or resentful at those around me. I am a force for love in the world, and I will spread it as far as my words can reach.

And I may be normal, but I’m anything but average.