Hi. I don’t know if you’ve heard of me, but I’m the best. I can do anything I want to, and I attract only love. This is because I am a creature of love. Not only that, but the more love I give away, the more I have. Basically, I could fill a barn with vibrations of love.

If I ever heard these words tumble from a mouth, I would pop off and make a cup of tea, just so I could come back and drop it in horror. People know it doesn’t make sense whatsoever, that’s why meaningless, self-congratulatory rubbish like this is usually hidden away.

The quotes from the first paragraph were based on genuine affirmations by Louise L Hay, author of books detailing the powers of self-actualisation and, if her Amazon reviews are anything to go by, commander of a devoted legion of empowered fragile souls around the world.

The reality TV show The Apprentice is full of people like this — not one of them would admit to being anything other than the best. You’d be hard pushed to get them to say what they’re the best at, because having an area of specialisation must seem futile when you’re the best at everything in the world there is. Failure is casually blamed on others. Breathtaking hubris can be justified: “Some people say I’m arrogant. I take that as a compliment.” Word up, sausage. Arrogance is a bad thing.

Billions of people sabotage themselves with fear and inaction. Even people who have the kind of appearance you or I would kill for can despise mirrors, because they’re a shrivelling reminder of a body that isn’t what it was, or could be. If you want to feel less like a isolated anomaly, the answer isn’t to become the Cosmic Ambassador of Cuddling Yourself. It’s to realise that we’re just the flimsy, adorable bloodsacs that sci-fi aliens are constantly saying we are.

Just have sensible opinions. Don’t say “I’m beautiful”. Say “I think I’m nice”. Don’t say “I’m the best”, just work out what you’re good at. And for God’s sake, don’t say “I’m an infinite well of love,” say “I’m a bit shit, yeah. But if everyone dropped their front for just one day and admitted how terrifying life is, we’d spend a week sobbing and apologising to strangers.” And what a week that’d be. I reckon everyone’d get laid.