We Are All Monsters In Our Own Way

Prose about being unkind and sometimes having monstrous ways

It’s nice to be important , but it’s more important to be nice. ~ Author Unknown

In the womb of my existence, I find solace in the darkness that veils my soul. I am not the stuff of nightmares that haunt children’s dreams, nor am I the monstrous figure that folklore warns against. Instead, I am a monster in my own way, a creature born from the depths of my thoughts and emotions, a product of my own complexities.

My monstrosity lies in the unspoken words that echo in the chambers of my heart, the fears that grip me in the dead of night, and the doubts that dance like demons in my mind. I wear a mask of normalcy, concealing the beast within, but it is always there, lurking beneath the surface, ready to rear its head when the world becomes too much to bear.

I am a monster in my own way because I battle with the demons of self-doubt and insecurity, struggling to find acceptance in a world that often feels alien. My claws are not physical, but they are sharp nonetheless, slicing through the façade I put up for the world to see, revealing the vulnerability that lies beneath.

Yet, in my monstrous existence, there is also strength. I have learned to embrace the darkness within me, acknowledging that it is a part of who I am. My struggles have forged a resilience that allows me to face the world with courage, even when my inner monster threatens to consume me.

I am a monster in my own way, but I am also human. I am flawed and imperfect, just like everyone else. And in embracing my monstrosity, I have found a peculiar kind of beauty — a beauty that comes from accepting oneself, darkness, and all, for it is in acknowledging our monsters that we truly learn what it means to be human.

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