Nope, I don't have as many hours in the day as Beyonce.

I would have to beg your pardon if you were to tell me that you have not found yourself rocking backwards and forwards, closed eyes, closed heart, panting 'What would Beyonce do? What would Beyonce do?' at least once in the last month. No, just me?

Yes, Beyonce is a powerhouse. ALL HAIL BEYONCE. But can we do as Beyonce does? Simple answer, no. Why? We do not have as many hours in the day as Beyonce. And boom, the problem with this form of self harm hits us in our non-Beyonce faces.

We have become a nation of caffeinated over-thinkers, cyber bullied by untouched pictures of Beyonce defying logistics and gravity with no makeup and no bra. Over-thinkers that think all life's trials and tribulations can be solved by following the actions of one solitary super-woman. What shall I do with my hair? Beyonce it, cut the sucker off. What shall I have for breakfast? Beyonce it, scrambled egg whites and a vegetable smoothie* (*eggnog latte and a tomato and cheese pastry...please Bey, you ain't separating nothing unless it's your gigantic pills of cash). What does 1+1 equate to? Beyonce it, one plus one equals two.

There are few questions in life that cannot be answered with those two powerful words: Beyonce it.

I like that Beyonce is a role model. Rightly so, she is a powerhouse. I love Beyonce, nearly as much as Kanye loves himself. But, it is the impression society has been forced to consume that we too can live like Queen B that leaves me questioning where my life went so wrong? Should I have entered beauty pageants? Was I denied my passage to Beyonce-hood by my inability to look cute in pictures whilst parading up and down a catwalk and performing tap routines in a cowboy hat? Did my parents fail me because they did not quit their adequately paid jobs to manage my three piece? I am 23, if I am to measure my life against that of Beyonce's then I am precisely 15 years behind on finding my first girlband* (*apply within).

This.must.stop. This culture of calculations and criticisms is sucking the joy we feel from achieving the little things in life. Yes, you only made it to the gym once in the last month but that was once more than last month so have a cake...you deserve it. Back when I was in primary school you would practically shit yourself with excitement if you were chosen to take the register back to reception. Where's that joy gone? I want that back. No, I didn't hit the top spot with a surprise album and no promo BUT I did clear the plug of rotten hair this month soooooo *victory dance*.

There is one fundamental "but" that most fail to take into consideration when wondering why that squat you did this morning hasn't shifted the baby weight yet. We do not have as many hours in the day as Beyonce. For example, laundry; Beyonce doesn't know what detergent will best rid the chocolate stain that lives on ALL.YOUR.CLOTHES. Airports; Beyonce doesn't turn up the obligitary three hours before departure, the plane waits for her. That's three hours back right there. Doing the dishes, in fact all forms of housework; Beyonce has only ever donned a pinny in a cute-ironic way, 'Look Jay, I am washing up, like those normal people we read about'.

Let me be clear, I am not criticizing Beyonce. I am criticizing the mindset that has led us to believe that we are not successful, powerful, significant or accomplished in comparison to Queen B. We should in fact feel the opposite. I have a full time job, a degree, 11 GCSE's, a blog, a home, an incredible set of family and friends and a project on the horizon and I do all my own washing, cooking, beauty-fying, shopping, tweeting, dragging-myself-out-of-bed-ing, dating, cyber stalking, high-fiving, queuing and sock-organizing. So for now Beyonce, you are dismissed. I am doing just fine.

B x