The Untold Tale

{Runner up in 'Story of my Life' contest} You have a story, but not everyone wants to read it.


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Everyone has a story, some more complex, some a little longer. But we have one.

If I were to tell you the story of my life, how far into it would you read before losing interest? A normal girl, from a normal town, with more or less normal problems. You wouldn’t be interested, would you?

Fact is, most of our stories aren’t interesting enough to tell. Most of aren’t a-list celebrities who’ll have fans flocking by the dozens to read, and most of us aren’t popular. Surely, though, someone out there cares, right?

Do you care enough to read my story?

A story about a teenage girl, born 23rd January 1998. No photo to depict accurately her life, no word or phrase to sum it up. Not even a story. So no, there is no story of my life, I’m sure there isn’t even a novel. A series of novels? Maybe. Do I have the time to write several novels about myself? No matter how much that pleases the vain side of me, no, I have no time.

So here I am, keys pressed and a new document open, ready to tell you at least a fraction of this life-story I’m going on about. Are you ready? As I sit here listening to music and looking around me helplessly, I don’t think I am.

I’m what you call average, but anyone with a miniscule amount of modesty in their being would say that. Average. I’m fifteen years old, my name is Chloe, I live in Scotland. Normal. I have an obsession with Korea, I love KPOP, rock, and metal. I take out my feelings by writing. I have anger issues, I have misophonia, I have a food phobia, and I’m wheat intolerant. Mediocre problems.

Now lets pause there. How much am I betting people have stopped reading already?

In a world like this, no one cares about our stories. No one cares to know about our peers, people we meet. They judge you first and foremost on your appearance, your status, your wealth. Not our stories. You already have an opinion on me, don’t you?

My psychologist says I’m pessimistic, but in reality, I’m seeing things for how they are. Truthfully, I don’t want to hear your stories of your life either. How would I be affected? How would it impact me? It wouldn’t, and I know you think the exact same thing about my story.

And it’s true.

No matter how much of a journey you went through, no matter what problems you have encountered, it won’t stop someone from doing the same thing. Humans have to learn from themselves, and unless you have done something absolutely altering to the way of the human life, we don’t care to read your auto-biographies.

Would you read mine, about how angry I get, about how much I hate not being able to eat normal food, how much I love to write, and how much I love Korean people? Nah, didn’t think so.

A woman who lands on the moon and discovers another life-form, however? You’d read that. Woman, 26 years old, training for years encountering health issues and personal traumas, then her ultimate life-changing discovery, launching her into the intense glare of limelight. Who wouldn’t read that?

One direction, the boy band who has more or less dominated the all-times list of boy-groups since their launch. Their personal struggles throughout and their personal stories from the past. Fans would read it, and there are lots of them.

You, me? We don’t have fans.

But I don’t care, and you don’t care either.

As long as we know our stories and learn from our own experiences. That’s what the stories of the unimportant mean. It doesn’t matter if not everyone has heard your story, if the world doesn’t know your name. As long as you know your name – who you are – heck, what you like to eat in the morning. As long as you know these things. Who cares if every Bob, Dick, and Harry doesn’t know what you’ve done in life?

I don’t want everyone to know about my problems, what I done as a child, and what I do as an adult. I don’t want people to stop and ask about an incident they’d heard about me from the past, even though it has nothing to do with them. I don’t want people know my inner most deep feelings. These are personal.

So lets think of it another way; sure, we want people to sympathise with our stories, tell us they understand, but no one actually can. Isn’t it more precious to keep your stories between whom it involves? An inside joke, if you may. So what if you didn’t cure a disease, so what if you aren’t a pro-footballer. You’re are unique and you have a story, but it’s not a story that everyone has to hear.

Everyone loves showing off by telling stories about past events, everyone loves to be centre of attention once in a while.

These are our stories, not their stories, and some stories are better untold. 

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