narcissism |ˈnärsəˌsizəm| -noun- excessive or erotic interest in oneself and one’s physical appearance.

  • Psychology extreme selfishness, with a grandiose view of one’s own talents and a craving for admiration, as characterizing a personality type.

I do not consider myself especially narcissistic. I don’t particularly care one way or the other how I look at any given

Narcissus.

moment. I am what I am. Take it or leave it. I do not spend so much as 20 minutes in front of a mirror on any day, but I have realized in the last few months, that I apparently like to hear myself talk. Not in a record my voice and play it back kind of way and not in a ramble on and on kind of way, but in a write it and read it kind of way.

Blogs, are in essence, a public journal. I apparently have some sort of need to be heard by the masses and so I put into words that which I think people should read. I have told myself that I’m doing it for me, but why publish it here in this manner? I mostly write about the trials and tribulations associated with having a child with various developmental disorders. Still, I do say “I” a lot. The posts are, under all the babble, about me.

Now that I’ve established that I may have heretofore unacknowledged narcissistic tendencies, I would like to say, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SELF!”  Yes, today is my birthday. I am now 35. I sometimes feel extremely old and sometimes, I wonder if I’m ever going to feel like an adult. I still have moments where I just want my mom to take care of it for me. Why the heck am I responsible for small children? Who do I think I am owning a car or a house?

Regardless, I am 35. Next year, I will be 36. I refuse to be ashamed or afraid of my age. I refuse to make that be one more thing that I don’t want to face. I OWN it. My life has not proceeded in a way I had planned or forseen. I had not ever planned on having children, and now I am a stay at home mom. I thought I would be designing houses and writing words while hiding under the covers after dark. I will not ever be an architect. I still love it, but I have taken and accepted that writing is in my blood. I don’t know if I will EVER be a professionally paid writer, but I have discovered a voice inside that needs to get out. Now, I can’t shut it up and I don’t know that I want to. I have finally, after years and years of denying, even hiding, from this part of myself, set it free. It has been liberating.

So, expect that I will have more things to say than just about my Chi.

Happy 35th Birthday to me. I’m glad to have finally accepted myself. Took long enough.

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