So there I was, munching on Doritos and sipping on Dr. Pepper at my cramped desk, conducting an unassuming internet search of learning to love yourself in order to ummm…let’s say “re-invent” the clichéd topic through “cross-referencing” authors. The first result from Google that pops up is an e-book: Bitch are you Retarded? By Carlos J. Lee.

LOOK INSIDE! So welcoming and hostile at the same time!

Due to my innate cynicism, I found this extremely amusing on a superficial level. In fact, my laptop is still stained by droplets of Dr. Pepper and spittle from the gross coughing fit that results when you burst out laughing and stuff your face simultaneously. However, after I regained my breath and my face returned to the color of living, I came to realize that this is sadly just another one of the many reflections of a modern society that encourages self-loathing and squashes the individual uniqueness that are the building blocks of your self.

Instead of encouraging us to nourish ourselves and find harmony in our lives, society points the finger at you so that anytime you feel rejection or things simply didn’t go as planned, your incompetence as a human being is to blame. Thinking this way only promotes conformity, as we try harder and harder to become the facades that are projected by our culture. People don’t change by simply putting things on or owning a certain car. Driving a Lincoln never gave me the smooth southern drawl of Matthew McConaughey and boy did I get rejected a lot for trying. In fact, who we are should never change, as our roots are comprised of your past experiences; be prideful of your distinctiveness: no one else has ever experienced life like you.

People, stop piling artificialness on top of your self:the only one’s approval that you should ever seek is that being in the mirror. Instead of suppressing all your quirks and oddities, embrace them! Prevent yourself from internalizing what your insecurity judges as “faults”; as in 20th century art, there is nothing wrong with imperfection. In fact, it usually drives prices up the worse the creation is, since there’s nothing like paying a few million for the worst possible crap to compensate for physical inadequacies (okay, maybe my personal bias is showing in this analogy, but you get the point).

Peinture (Le Chien) by Joan Miro – $2.2 Million

"Hun, that aardvark-dolphin would really tie our bedroom together"

I’m not telling you to go overboard and fill your living room with cats, but what I am saying is that it’s okay to tell your friends that you actually don’t give a Trump’s ass about the Denver Broncos. Urge yourself from being obsessively rigid with your definitions of cool, as they are nothing more than mirages that placate the exploration of our selves. You’ll be pleasantly surprised at the sincerity of people when your true colors are displayed.

Besides, what is so appealing about earning the approval of everyone and blending in with the viscous blob of majority. Ugh, I can’t even really conceptualize something more offensive than being normal; since when did great ideas or people you look up to ever come from majority and conformity? They were always willing to challenge the boundaries with positive attitudes, as they found that not all walls are immovable when you can catch a glimpse of the other side.

Sometimes you can’t be afraid to be offensive in order to create this progression. Normality is a stubborn opponent to fight, as it’s much easier to accept rather than dare. But de-emphasizing the fact that on occasion I may see dead people, I know I’m not crazy when stating that’s it’s permissible to be disapproved by others. It’s also okay to spend some time with only the company of your self.

Oh! How dare I suggest the horrible abyss of loneliness? Why would I ever want to be the one shrouded in the pouring rain, visage shadowed by melancholy as tears descend, creating ripples in the puddle by my feet, as the void engulfs me, and “Mad World” echoes in the background…? Or less ethereal and perhaps more realistically, eating ice cream outta the carton in my pajamas as I watch re-runs of Friends on my couch (Why you do this to me R n’ R?).

Oh, it's clear someone hurt you bad...Who hurt you? WHO?

Well, contrary to the negative connotation of loneliness, we don’t live in the mind of Thomas Hobbes, where the state of nature means that you ‘ll be fed to the village T-Rex if you didn’t make friends with that guy at the gym that lifts weights like you lift your spoon when eating mom’s homemade soup. In our society, there is no survival aspect in making a pact to always hold hands with your clique, but just don’t tell mine I said that.

So dare to spend some time alone, nourishing your roots, as a flower takes far longer to bloom when its roots are contending for water and nourishment in the same soil as all the other plants in the garden. Read a book, learn how to longboard, take twerking classes, expand your horizons and strive for self-improvement. Your options are your own, but you’ll soon find that the being in the mirror will not seem so intimidating anymore.

But hey why listen to me right? I’m not an uppity researcher conducting cases correlating bananas to humans. No, the only empirical evidence I have about the self is being…a human being.