greatness

I’ve always felt pressure to be something great. When I was a little girl, I thought that greatness would come on Broadway, where I could share my angelic average singing voice and mesmerizing laughable dancing skills with awe-inspired crowds.

That one year of high school when I thought I was a poet, I was convinced my simple ballads would make me this generation’s Emily Dickinson.

My grandest, longest dream of greatness was imagining myself creating a girls’ magazine. Seriously, this was a 10-year dream of mine (which, when you’re 26, is a long damn time). This is what I told every friend, mentor, colleague or passersby who asked my career plans. I was going to achieve my own greatness by helping young girls understand how wonderful they are. (I am just SO giving.)

I started by creating blogs, because I knew the best way to reach my dream was to start as soon as possible. I created at least four blogs in as many years because ADD. I never wrote frequently enough to gain the necessary traction for success. And, by the time I’d realized I hadn’t blogged in four months, I had a new awesome idea for a new awesome blog. My final blog attempt was a concerted effort to create the early stages of my magazine. Then I realized I had no idea what I was doing.

And then, I’d feel bad about my failures. I’d read too many articles by 23-year-old assistant editors at Vogue, and too many fashion blogs from women my age wearing Valentino on the daily.

Why hadn’t I achieved my greatness? There are women younger than me all over the Internet who are experiencing the kind of monumental success I’ve always envisioned for myself. If I haven’t made my first million and/or become a household name by 27, I’m obviously a failure.

Wait, Lauren. Take a step back.

It’s not about you.

Why did you ever feel pressure to be famous and wealthy?

It’s not about you.

Who ever said that notoriety was the only way to achieve greatness?

It’s not about you.

I live my life by a faith that prioritizes loving others, so why did I feel that everything needs to be about me?

The more negativity I see in headlines, the more narcism and bullying I see on social media, the more I realize that achieving my narrow view of greatness should never be a goal for me. I’m starting to think it’s not really worth it.

I’m starting to realize that true greatness already exists all around me, and I become an active participant every time I love my neighbor. I become part of the greatness of humanity every time I hold the door for a stranger, keep my middle finger down when someone cuts me off, or even take a moment to people-watch with love instead of derision and judgement. (If you’re overly hipster or trying to rock normcore, the judgement is just gonna happen, dude.)

It’s not about me.

Greatness is about loving others and finding ways to love through my talents. I write, so I enjoy crafting meaningful notes to those I love. I’m a gift whisperer, so I be sure to get people small presents randomly, just so they know someone is thinking of them. And I’m a fabulous hugger, so I try to make people’s gloomy days just a little bit brighter through a warm embrace.

I’ve given up on my silly, self-centered goal of fame, and am choosing to be the best, most kick-ass embodiment of love that I can be each and every day.

And that, dear friends, is greatness.