You’re not special. You’re something much better – you’re the same

by Paul Goodchild on December 29, 2013

Can you spot the difference?There is the thinking that it’s a wonderful idea to teach children they’re special; some how set apart from the other kids.

I think this is counter-productive and works against us all in the long term.

What makes children so special anyway? Why not the big people too – big people really are just children after all, but a bit taller.

Now, you’re probably resisting what I’m saying (especially if you have children of your own). Yes, your children are special – special to you.

Nearly all children are special to someone. But does that make them any more special than any other?

A few definitions might help:

  • Surpassing what is common or usual;
  • Distinct among others of a kind;
  • Peculiar to a specific person or thing;
  • Regarded with particular affection and admiration;

What if all children were special – wouldn’t that just make them all normal?

We can’t all be special, but we’re all important.

Why teaching a child they’re special actually undermines their self-image

Eventually children become “big people”, independent and self-sufficient, and they’re not quite so sparkly special any more. We tell them the dreams they once had when they were younger are now unrealistic. It’s time to “grow up” and be sensible.

Soon, they’re just like everyone else. Where did their unique specialness go to? And why don’t people still tell us we’re special?

The truth is we were never any more special that anybody else.

Children are normal. As little humans – they’re just smaller than the big ones, a bit more fragile, and more obviously narcissistic.

When we teach children that they’re different from everyone around them, we warp their reality. We ingrain within them a deep sense of separateness from others, and a competitive drive forms as the need to “get ahead” becomes rooted and standard practice.

This separation translates into a distrust of “strangers” and a sense of entitlement that begets down-right arrogance.

Have you ever wondered where all those big people (adults) that you don’t like come from?  Once-upon-a-time they were little people too.  Just like you and me.

They were taught that they were special too, that they were better, smarter; that they were right.

They listened and watched as the big people around them talked about how right they themselves were too. Even if they weren’t, they were always justified… and this became the standard model.

So when all those special “little people” grow up and realise they’re perhaps not that special after all in the “real world”, their self-image and self-worth crumble. They begin a life-long search, a clambering, to find something else to believe in, or to find someone that will fill that void and reassure them of how special they really are.  After all, how can they still be important, when they’re no longer special?

Perhaps if they were thinner, stronger, richer, poorer, had a bigger house, had a nicer car, had a partner…

When they were little people they felt important just by being themselves. Or so they were taught.  And so the quest begins to reconcile the idea that you can still be significant, you are still worthy, even though you carry the same worth as every one else.

So what should a child be taught about themselves?

Children need to know all those things that the big people spend the rest of their lives trying to convince themselves of.

A child should be taught that we’re all the same. They put their pants on one leg at time… like all the other children do.

Their self-worth isn’t relative. You’re not significant just because you think you’re better than someone else.

They need to know that all children get scared, they laugh, they cry, they feel vulnerable, and they love… and the big people do too.

They need to be shown, by example, that the strangers they meet should be respected first, and judged later, if at all.

We should demonstrate to them that it’s more rewarding to give, than to either receive or share.

They need to be taught to believe in their abilities and themselves. They won’t be able to do everything well, but they’ll eventually discover what they can do. Their friends will do some things better than them, and that’s okay… and we should encourage people that discover their natural talents, just as we need encouragement when we’re finding ours.

Sure, we all look different, we sound different, we have different skills, we have different interests, and we have different values.  All the more reason to share yourself with those around you and receive what they have to share with you.

When your first approach is to separate yourself from those around you, you lose out on all there is on offer.

What’s the upside to realising that everyone around you is just like you?

Is there anyone reading this that doesn’t actually like the feeling that comes with being connected to other people?

Do you feel better when you’re separated and disconnected? Do you enjoy being suspicious of others, being easily offended, and easily disheartened?

Where do you think these feelings come from? Do they come from your tendency to connect with others, or when you separate yourself from them because you’re different… better somehow?

When you woke up this morning, did you think? “I just can’t wait to be offended by something today?”

Perhaps not consciously, but if you take a moment to think about it, you’ll discover how much more easily you find yourself offended by people than connected to them.

When you say and do unkind things to others – they might not pull you up on it, but they still feel it.  Just like you felt it when it was done to you. Why? Because they’re just like you.

What about when you did something pretty cool, something impressive that you wish you’d received recognition for? Can you imagine a time when someone you know did something like that and you never recognised them for it.  It’s the same feeling.  They feel it too.

I wish I had this whole thing nailed myself… but I don’t. And it’s why I’m writing this. Recently I’ve a bigger tendency to separate myself a little… to protect myself from the bullshit and haters. And naturally, we manifest exactly what we see – if I think I see bullshit, that’s all I’ll see.

So I’m trying to always remind myself that even those people that wreck my head, that offend me, that hurt me, they’re just the same as me.  They’re trying to make themselves feel significant.  Not because they’re bad, but because they too have grown up thinking that they’re different, and that their sense of self-worth is tied closely to how they compare themselves to those around them.

Try to remember, as will I… that you and I are the same. We’re far from perfect, far from ideal, but we’re each of us important, significant.

We’re the same.

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