I remember the first time my father taught me this. I had this friend, for the sake of his privacy, we'll call him Zeke- his name isn't really Zeke it's just a code name I suppose. Now, Zeke was my best-friend for years- since I was essentially a baby. However, Zeke had this incredible ego and pride. He'd always want to be first in everything, he always picked fights, he always swore without a second thought, he never allowed disrespect. Now, for a nine-year old Alex, he was like a- God forgive me for saying this but- a God to me. I wanted to be him, I wanted to do what he did and be who he was. You see, I was a weak, fragile, little child and everytime I'd get hurt, I'd run to my father. Now, the reasons as to why I was so weak and fragile are unknown. Anyhow, whenever this Zeke person would get a new toy, or a new game, or picked up a new hobby, I'd urge my father to do the same for me. Now, this Zeke- as strong and mighty as he was- I was undoubtedly better than him. I was smarter, more likeable and just in general a better- in moral and logical terms- child. My father, being the caring, noticing man that he is, knew this since I was a little child. I mean, when other children were sucking their thumbs and drinking paint, I was drawing and writing short-stories. So, my father was rough on me. He began restricting me from seeing Zeke as often and taught me that I shouldn't be like other people. You see, he wanted me- and still does- to be better than everyone. In his own words, he doesn't want me to be just the bare-minimum, or just about pass. No. He wants me to be the maximum. He wants me to pass with flying colours. I'd understand if you, the reader, sees this as narcissistic and egoistical, however, the backstory- in my opinion- makes it worthwhile.
My ancestors, from my father's side, were seen as violent, dirty and low-lives. In my village, there's a sort of hierarchy based on where you live; uphill or downhill. Now, for my father's entire childhood, he lived right at the uphill. When he was a young-man, he moved to England and worked hard. And in a shocking turn of events, he moved us from the tip-top and pinnacle of shame, to the boot of gold of the village. We moved from the uphill to the downhill. Nobody believed in my dad, not even his own relatives yet he proved them wrong. To this day, our neighbours still look at us and wonder How did this poor, filthy wildling make it all the way down here?
Now, my father didn't have the extraordinary circumstances that I have here in England. He didn't go to these high-quality facilities of education, or have the means to write books, or have the opportunity to be who he really wanted to be- a police officer. He is just a simple, food delivery man. So, it makes sense that the man who proved an entire village wrong wouldn't want me to aspire to be the same as everyone else. It makes sense for him to want me to become the best of the best; not only for me but also to prove the people who didn't believe in him and spoke down on him wrong even further. He has given his entire life to this cause: to make me the best. And frankly, I won't disappoint. Uniqueness is what makes a person get a second glance. This is clear in the way that art is seen as today. I'm sure you and me both can agree that the art pieces that sell for the most in today's world are ridiculous right? I mean how can a canvas that has random shapes and colours sell for more money than an intricately painted portrait? For centuries, humanity has been drawing portraits, for centuries there was no uniqueness in the world of art. Now, to answer the question; the funny-Looking, abstract, random paintings sell for more because they are different, they are unique. This is the same in people. We have more value, we turn heads when we are unique. Even in the modelling industry this is seen. Models nowadays all look so unique and fascinating. Uniqueness makes a person interesting and worthwhile and my father knew this. Plus, everyone else in my village and my social circles were all the exact same. Growing up smoking, vaping, drinking, failing school, marrying, then living off of daddy's money for the rest of their lives. So my father is entirely right when he wants me to be the best, and doesn't want me to copy others. And I'm certain my father also knew that if you try to follow someone else and copy them- bit-by-bit- then you'll lose yourself. Copying someone else can lead to you losing your own self and my father knew this. My father knew that I was great and that I had a bright life ahead of me and he didn't want me to lose that because I wanted to be like Zeke. And now, when I am 14, I look at myself and compare myself to the boys my age, and from my village, and I- I am ashamed to be so proudful and egoistical yet I can't help it- acknowledge that I am better than them. Maybe not currently, perhaps right now they're taller, more handsome, stronger and whatnot but I know in five years I'll be in university, building a life for myself and they'll be stuck in a house with a wife and four children because they couldn't keep their dick in their pants.
However, my father obviously didn't want me to grow up absolutely isolated and 'evolve' all on my own. No, of course not. My father urged me to get inspiration from others. If I see something good in someone, then I should try to be somewhat the same. For example, if we saw a police officer saving someone's life, or a child singing a song in church, or a young-man preaching in church, my father would urge me to take notes. However, being inspired by someone doesn't mean that you are copying that someone. If I'm being Frank, Zeke was inspiring in someway. However, rather than little-me being inspired by him, I was inspired to be him. And I honestly thank God that my father noticed this and saved me. Otherwise, I would've ended up like Zeke. However, I must be humble, I am not perfect. Sometimes, I do give in to peer-pressure- the thing my father tried to make me avoid the most. However, whenever my father found out, he wouldn't beat me, or penalize me. No, he victimized me. He felt bad for me. He taught me, though in a violent and shouting manner, to be better and different. To be myself. He told me that life begins when you stop looking at other people's life and allow yours to flow freely. So, now, I do become inspired by others. Yet to follow them and copy their actions? Never. I am incredibly resilient to peer pressure and almost never give in and that is all my father's fault. I am glad my father never allowed me to go out when I was in year seven and eight of secondary school. That seems cruel and awful however you must realize that these years are the years where children are most vulnerable to peer-pressure. I mean, look at it from their perspective: You're a child in a new school, a new environment and you want to fit in. So, of course you'd go out and do what everyone else did. And this, most-likely, led to doing stupid, idiotic things. And my father knew this and allowed me to grow by myself at home when the other kids were out. Now, I am somewhat older and somewhat more mature and he trusts me to go out. Hell, I don't even ask anymore. And, I am strong. I don't do anything idiotic or stupid when I go out because my father taught me better and because of him I never became someone else besides the person who I was meant to be, the person which my father shaped me out to be.