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I’m Not Beyonce

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Okay so there’s only one you. Only one me. Only one Leonardo DiCaprio. Only one Zac Efron. There’s no possible way, that I know of, that I can wake up one morning and be Beyonce. It just can’t happen unless I’m in some Freaky Friday crap and Beyonce becomes an 18 year-old girl from New Jersey. I sure as hell feel like I’m Beyonce at times, but no. I am Gab who often feels like Beyonce when I am singing, cleaning the clothes off of my floor.

I have some pretty interesting experiences and quirks that make me myself (bada** self, might I add).

There are four people I know on this planet who enjoy a chocolate coke. Not diet coke, coke zero, or vanilla coke, I said chocolate coke. This delicacy is not found in stores and is only available in my kitchen.

A chocolate coke is a mixture of ice, milk, Ovaltine powder, and Coca-Cola. I’m not insane. I know this sounds extremely off putting and is something you would whip up when you are drunk, but this has been my drink since I was probably 2 years old. Yes, my grandparents used to put soda in my sippy cups (judge as you will but I turned out fine . . . and slightly addicted to sugar, but what my mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her).

The only people who enjoy this special cocktail is myself, my grandfather, the inventor, and two of my friends whom I forced to try this concoction when we were younger. There’s something about nostalgia.

See how you don’t have the memory of enjoying chocolate coke on a cool summer night sitting on the railing of your porch with your grandparents? That makes sense because you are not me. I also think Beyonce had a different childhood, just saying.

I will also bet money that you enjoy Christmas music. Guess what? I don’t. I hate Christmas music and the whole holiday in general. I feel like for many holidays families pretend to be happy and act like everything is okay, and I don’t want to fall into the bull crap. I don’t like the idea of faking the “family feeling” when it isn’t there. I would rather we all acknowledge it’s not there and not make a big fuss of Christmas. I also hate pretending we are religious, that’s just stupid. As a result, Christmas music the day after Thanksgiving, isn’t for me.

I have yet to meet another person who doesn’t like Christmas. Everyone says to me, “Gab come on, you don’t even like the Mariah Carey song?” I do not like the Mariah Carey one; it doesn’t do it for me. I bet Beyonce enjoys Christmas, cause she sang a few songs back in the day.

Do we see a pattern here? I mix weird drinks together, I hate Christmas, and I’m afraid of birds and squirrels. If this describes you as well, then we must be clones living a double life. You may be similar to me and also are an okayish driver, but you can’t be me. You will not wake up one morning in my Artic-like room and walk downstairs and make yourself a bowl of oatmeal using my favorite bowl. I will not wake up one morning with Jay-Z next to me in a California King bed in my mansion . . .unfortunately.

Now that we have established that I am not Beyonce, and you are not me, doesn’t it seem silly to try and be like someone else? You need to embrace who you are and everything you are passionate about, everything you like and dislike, and what you have been through in the past that makes you, you. Attempting to be someone else is tiresome and your whole life you will be striving to be someone that is not achievable.

I have a bracelet my mom got me for some holiday. It is a small rectangular plate with a black rope material and long strings. The metal piece reads “You were given this life because you are strong enough to live it.” I’ve been wearing it for a few months and I tend to write it on everything. I went to a accepted students day for my college and had the opportunity to write a message to students who were graduating and I wrote that message. I also made up a care package to go to a local women’s shelter there and wrote that saying on the sticky note. Clearly, this quote is important to me (I’m actually contemplating getting a tattoo of it . . .)

I feel like there are a few different ways you can take it depending on what stage of life you are in right now, but the direct message is pretty straight up: This is your life, only yours. Your decisions affect you, your emotions are representative of how you are feeling, and your memories and perspectives are yours no one else’s. All of this is yours and you can’t exchange it to be someone else’s. No one else can have your life either.

Take your life and who you are and for what you want it to be. You’ll never be anyone else. 

 

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I’m Not Beyonce