Essays, Etc.

Superheroes, Etc. (by @PleasantVisions)

Hey, guys. So this next essay is rather sweet and sentimental, and absolutely brilliant. Before you begin reading, I just wanted to thank all of you for your submissions; I really appreciate them, and do everything in my power to get them uploaded in a timely manner. Thank you all for the support, and enjoy the essay!

Being the daughter of a comic-book junkie, I was raised on the prospect of superheroes.  Other girls wanted to wear glass slippers and take Prince Charming to the ball; I wanted nothing more than a cape and a supervillian for me to save the world from. To be a superhero; a person with uncanny talents, soaring through the sky with nothing but their own limitations to hold them back. You could save anyone and make a huge impact on a life other than your own. You could be yourself.

These thoughts lingered in my head when I began school; the prospect of being your own person and changing the world through the work of your hand. In preschool, I was the girl who swung to the highest point on the swing and then leaped off, hoping my own powers would cause me to soar up and reach completely new heights. Of course, once you've tried to jump off the swing and failed enough times, the novelty sort of wears off. 

Eventually, I grew older and came to the realization that super human abilities didn't really exist. But I still held on to that superhero ideal; you can be yourself and change the world, no matter who you are. It was only when I reached middle school that this idea started to change.

Society showed me the darkness in the world. There were no superheros, there was only darkness and similarity. We are all the same. No one is unique. 

This was the idea that was being drilled into my head; if you showed any signs of being truly unique or special, it was pressed from your skin as they shaped you into society's mold. So for a while, I gave up on my quest to be a superhero. I fit the mold. I started liking girly things like Starbucks and pink frilly dresses. I stopped talking about heroes and focused on my Algebra homework. I tried to be what they wanted, and it was never good enough.

Society really doesn't practice what they preach. They cry for you to be unique, and bring something different and fresh to the table. But once you show a single spark, they put it out before it can become a flame.

I was looking back through those old comic-books yesterday. The pages are frayed and yellowed, but holding it in my hands reminded me of the good days of childhood innocence. I missed it and wanted it back. I wanted to feel free again and not burdened by the mold I was being squashed into. I wanted to be a hero again. Of course, in high school they don't exactly make that an easy task to overcome. The mold squishes you even more here; bending you into the shape you need to be in to fit a job sector. Adding another office worker to the extension line; darkness, gloom and similarity.

My hope was waning, until I came to an utter realization; to bring back those differences and break the mold, you have to be a hero. And to be a hero, you have to break the mold. The two things went hand in hand. You don't have to have mystic powers or be from another planet; you just have to be yourself. That's all a hero really is.

So go out there and take off the mask society has wrapped over you to conceal your true identity. Take away the lavish suit and makeup or whatever else you're using to stay anonymous. 

Break the mold.