The Luxury of Being Unremarkable - By Angelina Grace Shekinah Kowlessur

Written By: Angelina Grace Shekinah Kowlessur

Category: Prose

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

Angelina Grace Shekinah Kowlessur presents her poignant prose piece, "The Luxury of Being Unremarkable," in the Creative Writing category of the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Her work delves into the complexities of identity and the societal pressures to conform to expectations. Kowlessur's exploration of the theme of unremarkability speaks to the universal desire for authenticity and freedom from external validation.

About the Work

"The Luxury of Being Unremarkable" is a reflective and contemplative piece that examines the burden of societal expectations and the liberation found in anonymity. Kowlessur's writing is eloquent, weaving themes of identity, self-discovery, and the human experience. Through vivid imagery and introspective musings, she challenges the reader to consider the importance of living a life true to oneself, free from the constraints of labels and achievements.

The Luxury Of Being Unremarkable

Original Submission by Angelina Grace Shekinah Kowlessur

The Luxury of Being Unremarkable

A strange thing happens when a person becomes remarkable: they stop being permitted to exist without explanation.

Their intelligence becomes evidence of what intelligence can achieve. Their beauty becomes something to be noticed. Their resilience becomes a story about overcoming. Their success becomes an example.

Even their failures acquire meaning.

The person begins to disappear beneath the interpretation.

This happens quietly.

A child who consistently performs well at school becomes the clever one. A teenager who seems unusually responsible becomes the mature one. Someone who is good at art becomes the artistic one. Someone who handles difficult situations without complaining becomes the strong one.

There is nothing particularly sinister about any of this. People need ways of understanding one another. We remember patterns. We give names to the qualities we notice.

But eventually, the name can become heavier than the person.

The clever one is not supposed to struggle.

The strong one is not supposed to fall apart.

The talented one is not supposed to be ordinary.

And the person who has spent years being one particular thing can become frightened of discovering that they might also be something else.

Perhaps that is one of the strangest consequences of being admired.

Admiration can make a person visible while making parts of them invisible at the same time.

Everyone sees the achievement.

Few people see the uncertainty behind it.

Everyone sees the good result.

Few people see the nights when getting there felt impossible.

Everyone sees the person who seems to have it together.

Few people ask what it costs to keep appearing that way.

Sometimes the expectations are not even spoken.

They exist in small sentences.

“You did well, right?”

“Obviously you did.”

“We know you’re going to get excellent results.”

“You’re good at this.”

There is affection in these words. Sometimes there is pride. Sometimes there is genuine belief.

But belief can become a strange thing when it leaves no room for contradiction.

What happens when the person everyone believes in no longer believes in themselves?

What happens when the student who has always understood suddenly cannot?

What happens when someone who has always known what they wanted changes their mind?

What happens when the person everyone calls talented discovers that they are tired of being talented?

There is no obvious place for these things to go.

They do not fit neatly into the identity that has already been created for them.

So people learn to hide them.

Not necessarily because anyone told them to.

Sometimes the pressure comes from wanting to remain recognisable to the people who love them.

That may be the cruelest part.

A person can become trapped not by criticism, but by praise.

They begin to protect the version of themselves that other people are proud of.

And slowly, without noticing, they can start making decisions not according to what they want, but according to what makes sense for the person everyone thinks they are.

This is not limited to achievement.

It happens in quieter ways too.

A person becomes known as the funny one and feels guilty for being unhappy.

The dependable one learns to say yes long after they want to say no.

The ambitious one becomes afraid of wanting a smaller life.

The person who has always been certain becomes embarrassed by uncertainty.

Eventually, even changing can feel like a form of failure.

But people are not meant to remain consistent enough to make everyone else comfortable.

There should be room to become unfamiliar.

There should be room to outgrow an identity.

There should be room to discover that the thing you were once praised for is no longer the thing you want to give your life to.

And perhaps there should be room to be bad at something.

That sounds insignificant until you realise how much of life is spent trying to avoid being seen failing.

There is a particular vulnerability in being a beginner.

For a while, you are not impressive. You do not know what you are doing. You make mistakes that someone more experienced would never make.

But maybe that is exactly what makes beginning valuable.

There is no identity to protect yet.

You can simply learn.

You can make something badly because you like making it. You can read about something without needing to become an expert. You can try and fail and try again without having to turn the experience into evidence of either your potential or your lack of it.

Not everything has to become a talent.

Not everything has to become useful.

Not everything has to become part of who you are.

Some things can simply be yours.

Perhaps that is what makes anonymity so appealing.

Not being unknown because nobody cares, but being unknown enough that nothing you do has to mean anything beyond itself.

There is a freedom in having a life that does not constantly translate itself for other people.

A freedom in doing something without photographing it.

In enjoying something without becoming good at it.

In changing your mind without making an announcement.

In having a thought that never becomes an opinion you are known for.

In being different versions of yourself in different places and not having to decide which one is the “real” one.

Because perhaps the self is not supposed to be a finished thing.

Perhaps we become too interested in defining people because definitions make them easier to understand.

But a person is more complicated than the best thing they have ever done.

They are also the things they abandoned.

The things they failed at.

The interests they outgrew.

The opinions they changed.

The versions of themselves they no longer recognise.

A life contains contradictions.

That is not a flaw in the person living it.

It is evidence that they are alive.

Maybe this is why some of the most meaningful memories are the ones that would look completely insignificant to anyone else.

A group of friends sitting on a beach as the sun goes down.

They are talking about ordinary things. Someone remembers something embarrassing from years ago. Someone talks about a dream they have for the future. Someone says something stupid and everyone laughs.

Nothing is being achieved.

Nobody is being evaluated.

For once, there is no need to be particularly intelligent or talented or successful or impressive.

There is only the conversation, the fading light, the sand, and the people sitting in it.

And somehow, those moments can remain long after more important-looking moments have disappeared.

Perhaps because nobody is asking them to become anything.

They are simply there.

There is something almost sacred about that kind of existence.

Not because it is extraordinary.

Because it isn’t.

We spend so much of our lives trying to become.

What will you study?

What will you do?

Who will you become?

What will you achieve?

The questions begin early, long before most people have had the chance to understand themselves well enough to answer them.

And there is value in having ambitions. There is nothing wrong with wanting to achieve something meaningful.

But there is a danger in making becoming the entire purpose of living.

A person can spend so long preparing for the life they are supposed to have that they forget to notice the one they are already living.

They can become so concerned with whether their choices will lead somewhere that they forget to ask whether they actually want to go there.

Maybe a meaningful life does not always announce itself through achievement.

Maybe sometimes it looks like a quiet afternoon.

A friendship that nobody else knows is important.

A hobby that never becomes a career.

A decision that makes no sense on paper but feels right.

A life that would not impress a stranger and does not need to.

We often speak about leaving a mark as though a life without one must somehow be incomplete.

But perhaps there is freedom in not needing to leave one.

The world does not need to remember everything.

Not every life needs to become a lesson.

Not every person needs to become an example.

Not every moment needs to be significant.

There should be places within a life where nothing is being proved.

Where a person can be ordinary without feeling as though they have failed to become extraordinary.

Where they can be uncertain without being lost.

Where they can change without being accused of inconsistency.

Where they can exist without constantly wondering how they are being perceived.

That, perhaps, is the luxury of being unremarkable.

Not a life without meaning.

A life whose meaning does not have to be visible.

A life that is not constantly being turned into a story for someone else.

A life that can remain private, unfinished and contradictory.

A life that belongs to the person living it.

Because perhaps the deepest kind of freedom is not becoming someone remarkable.

It is reaching a point where you no longer need to.

Where there is nothing left to prove, no image left to maintain, no expectation that has to be fulfilled.

Where you can learn something simply because you want to.

Fail without becoming a failure.

Change without becoming a disappointment.

Want something different without needing to justify it.

And, finally, exist without asking whether your existence is impressive enough.

Maybe the most valuable thing a person can become is not exceptional.

Maybe it is simply their own.

Not the version their parents imagined.

Not the version their teachers praised.

Not the version their friends grew accustomed to.

Not the version they once thought they had to be.

Just themselves.

Unfinished.

Changing.

Unremarkable, perhaps.

But free.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar is a prestigious platform celebrating literary creativity worldwide. It provides writers with an opportunity to share their unique voices and perspectives, fostering a global community of literary enthusiasts. Participants from diverse backgrounds showcase their talents, contributing to a rich tapestry of poetic and creative expression.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Angelina Grace Shekinah Kowlessur for sharing "The Luxury of Being Unremarkable" with us. Her insightful exploration of identity and freedom is a valuable addition to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. We look forward to seeing how her creative journey unfolds, and we are grateful for her contribution to the literary world.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.