The diary of an average girl
It suddenly hit me that Monday morning, that kind of full-force, breath-leaving-your-lungs, stop-dead-in-your-tracks hitting. I was an average girl! It wasn’t something I had thought of before and I waited for the disappointment to come. I saw a book once, ‘An Enemy Called Average’ so I felt sure that my being an average girl wasn’t something I should celebrate.
I continued walking, more slowly now, as I contemplated why I would consider myself an average girl. So, I started making a list mentally. I am averagely intelligent, I am no Albert Einstein though I heard he failed at some point or was that Bill Gates? I am not a dull person either, just average. My parents are an average sort, you know, not rich and not poor, just average. My background is average, not very exotic and not so drab either; average. Even my spiritual life was average too. I wasn’t a fire-breathing, demon-slaying, burning-with-fervour Christian but I don’t consider myself that much of a sinner either. I try. Really, I do. My relationship life was dead so there was no need to consider it in my average calculations but if I were to judge by my past relationships, average does come to mind. No happily-ever-afters so far, even if I have managed to be somehow happy while it lasted. Have I missed any other aspect? I don’t think so and even if I have, the aspects I have covered thus far are enough to confirm my suspicions.
So, meet me, the average girl. Crap, even my name is average. I have often wondered why my parents didn’t give me a beautiful name that will make people compliment me often. Nobody has ever complimented my name before. Well, I wouldn’t compliment my name either so I don’t blame them. My name is Yetunde, which translates to mean that a dead mother is back again. Nigerians and their belief in reincarnation. In my case, it was my great-grandmother that came back through me. I never even met her and I doubt that I have a spirit sharing my body with me. I don’t understand why I should have to pay for her death with my name for the rest of my life. Oh, I have tried to change my name so many times to my other names but it has failed always. I am destined to be punished. Well, it’s better than Sikira or Risi, if that is any consolation. And close pals take pity on me and call me Yetty sometimes. I think that is slightly better.
I have average looks. I don’t think anyone will stop to look at me twice. I am no raving beauty but hey, I am not the hunchback of Notre-dame either. So, there, average again. I have an average figure. It is nothing like Kim Kardashian or Nicki Minaj. In case you were wondering, I’m of average height too.
Bundle of average, wouldn’t you say?
The surge of disappointment didn’t come. I wasn’t sad about being an average girl. I wasn’t angry or bitter either, I am quite okay with it. Is that bad? We are supposed to accept and love ourselves no matter what, so I think I like me, average girl and all. I just remembered that my hair is average too. It is not very long and silky, but it has a nice dark colour that gets complimented sometimes. It is not very full but it isn’t scanty either. Average. My eyes, do you even need to ask? I don’t have the huge eyes that seem to be all the rage; my eyes are small and normal, no vivid colour or long lashes to boast of. But then, as my friend Adeola says, I should be lucky I am not blind.
Maybe I am not disappointed because I have this feeling that my life is about to take an interesting turn. I haven’t done badly for an average girl. I have just been admitted into the University of First Choice and the Nation’s Pride, University of Lagos, to study English Language. It was my first attempt too and that means a lot to me because I know how frustrating JAMB can be. It seemed like a breeze actually, considering the fact that I know people who have had to write UTME five times and I was gripped with that fear.
My name on the list of 200 students wasn’t in the top ten but I was the fifteenth. Not bad for an average girl, huh? I have started packing my bags and I am very excited as I begin this new phase of my life. I will move into the hostel tomorrow.
Oh, did I mention that my belongings are average too, not ratty but not completely posh either. I had better stop with this average thingy before I start giving you details of my average underwear, just kidding! I am sure you get the picture already. Wish me luck.