The Art of Compensation

When i was in my freshman year of high school, I auditioned for the dance troupe but due to some unfortunate events, i didn’t make it. I remember being so devastated as i sent my papa a text message telling him about what had just hapened. And then he replied…

“It’s ok, Issa, you’re still the best dancer for me.”

and with just that, i was ok.

And then there was this one time when I lost a tennis match against an extremely manly girl and it made me seriously doubt my abilities as a tennis player. I remember my papa putting his arm around me and saying…

“It’s ok, Issa. You’re still the best tennis player for me.”

After hearing him say that it made me feel like fucking Sherapova and i was determined to do a best job the next time.

Then as i grew older, it turned into a lot of…

Don’t worry, Issa, you’re so much better than her”


So what? It’s his loss anyways.”

or something of the familiar matter.

But I’m thinking about it now and i’m realizing that all these lines are only said to blind us and just that.

Because in the end, i still wasn’t on the dance team. Instead, i was just sitting in the audience rotting in jealousy.
By the end of that tournament, i still didn’t go home with that medal.
By the time i go to bed tonight, i’ll still be alone and most of all…

i’m not actually the best.
and i know it.

One Reply to “The Art of Compensation”

  1. I think like this too, a lot. At the end of the day, someone loved us enough to tell us that we were the best for them. That’s a club very few people in this world get to attain. It does matter.

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