Self-Importance

I’m about to ruin someone’s day with this post.

I complain about things when I feel they’re worth complaining about. I sometimes speak strongly and passionately on things I care about. For some people, they take that to mean I consider myself to have outsize importance.

I don’t. I’m just one person in a world of billions. I’m not special. I’m just willing to say things that I feel need to be said while other people too often hold themselves back.

If I boycott something, my wallet isn’t any more important than anyone else’s. But it’s still my wallet. It’s my voice I get to speak with. Even if it’s a paltry dollar, it’s my dollar. I can use it however I wish. If I’m going to be alive, then I’m going to say things I need to say, and feel things I need to feel.

I recognize the value of what I put out there. Other people should too, but sadly, they often don’t. They often speak and act without thinking, never weighing even once how their behavior affects everything else around them. Or thinking they do, but never really understanding just how far that reaches. Spatially. Chronologically. Emotionally, psychically, and on levels we can’t even perceive and never will.

No, I’m not important. I’m not special. I’m simply me. And for people who have an issue with that, all I have to say is much can be learned from self-reflection. And experiences, but self-reflection is the easier (if longer) route that I sincerely hope as many people as possible follow. Because the experience route blows.

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