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Fame Lied to Us. We Were Always Talented.


Reclaiming Our Spark: In an Age of Celebrity-Worship, We've Forgotten Ourselves

In this day and age of celebrity worship, we’ve unknowingly handed over our creative birthright. Scroll through social media, flip through the TV, or walk past a magazine stand — we're constantly bombarded with curated images of fame, talent, and perfection. We admire them, applaud them, and secretly wish we could be them.

Somewhere along the way, we’ve bought into a lie: that greatness is reserved for the chosen few — the big names, the stars, the ones with millions of followers. We tell ourselves, “I could never sing like that,” “I can’t dance,” “I’m not creative,” and slowly, we accept a version of ourselves that is smaller, quieter, and dimmer than who we really are.

But the truth is — we’ve forgotten.

We’ve forgotten that we are all born creators. That spark we see in the ones we admire? It lives in us too. Before we learned to compare, before we learned the words “not good enough,” we were all drawing, dancing, singing off-key but with full hearts, building things out of nothing, dreaming wildly.

The system — the one that glorifies the few and sidelines the many — profits off our amnesia. It thrives when we consume, not when we create. It distracts us from the very real, very raw, and very powerful potential that sits quietly in each of us.

We need to wake up.

We need to reclaim our spark, our voice, our rhythm, our brushes and pens and movement. You don’t need to be famous to be talented. You don’t need to be on a stage to sing. You don’t need a million eyes on you to matter.

Maybe your art is meant to inspire one person. Maybe your song is meant to bring healing to your own heart. Maybe your dance is how you commune with joy. Isn’t that worth something? Isn’t that sacred?

Let’s stop calling ourselves mediocre. Let’s stop waiting for permission. You are not too late, too old, too unknown. You are not untalented. You are simply... untapped.

So write the poem. Sing that verse. Dance barefoot in your room. Build something, paint something, imagine something.

In a world that shouts “watch them,” dare to whisper back, “I’m going to be me.”

And that, my friend, is the kind of magic no celebrity can replicate.

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