I don't spend a lot of time thinking about myself.
Ok, that sounds like I'm about to launch into a self-righteous tirade about how my life is completely dedicated to other people and I am completely self-sacrificing. Hang with me--that's not what it's about.
While it's true that I, as a mother, don't spend a lot of time thinking about myself and doing things for myself, I don't mind that. If I was, say, a stockbroker or a teacher or a banker or any other sort of professional, it would be the same. Being a housewife and a mother is my job, so that's naturally what my focus is all about. Mine carries over into every aspect of my life, but anyone who is very dedicated to their work will have the same thing happen. I'm not unusual in that regard.
The thing is, I spend a lot of my time doing rather than thinking. I am too busy preparing meals to think about whether or not I am a good cook. I am too busy dealing with laundry to worry about my skills as a laundress. I DO spend a lot of time thinking about how I'm raising my children, but only in order to do a better job at it.
Am I selfish? You bet. I'm mostly worried about my family. That one little word--"my"--makes me selfish. If they weren't mine, I wouldn't worry about them.
What I don't do is take a lot of time to think about the way others perceive me. Until someone tells me what a bad person I am. Then, it seems to be all I can think about.
I hate that.
Yes, I am a neurotic freak who is still obsessing over the comments my "frenemy" made a few weeks ago. I should let it go, but I can't.
I still feel sick inside when I remember reading those words, "no wonder nobody goes out of their way to hang out with you." And I wonder what kind of a person the world thinks I am.
Introspection isn't really my bag, baby. I don't like being forced to examine my own behavior. Because now every move I make, every word I speak, everything I don't do, has to be analyzed. I can't even use Facebook or my blog with impunity. I have to worry that what I am writing will make me seem arrogant. Or worse, like I am complaining about my life or making fun of my husband.
But the bottom line is this:
I don't think I am better than anybody else. I don't have a perfect life, but nobody does. I am luckier than most. If I DO brag, it is unintentional. I just like to celebrate when I get something right, because it's a very rare occurrence.
If this makes me a bad person, so be it.
To my frenemy I say, "Forget you (that's the edited version, by the way). If you don't like me, fine. If you want to pretend to be my friend, fine. If you want to hang out or you need a favor, that's fine too. Feel free to call. But I have un-friended you on Facebook and I have deleted your phone number from my contacts. My children love me and my husband adores me, and I don't need you.
"I have to be me, whether that makes me arrogant, pushy, and nasty or not. I will be myself, and stop worrying about how the rest of the world sees me. Because I AM selfish. My own tiny world that consists of me, my husband, my children, and a few select friends is the only world that matters to me. And, dear frenemy, you are not a part of it."
Big words.
Now I hope I can make them stick.
