I know myself pretty well. That’s not a humblebrag; it’s just a flat-out brag. Heh. I kid. It’s just reality. I have a pretty clear view on my negatives and a little less strong grasp on my positives. For example, there’s a famous survey that says 80% of the people surveyed think they’re better-than-average drivers. Which, as you can note, is statistically impossible. What I did not know was that all the respondents had been in a car accident at some point. Also, there’s another study that said fewer than 1% of the people surveyed believed they were worse-than-average drivers. Basically, people think they are above average in everything. An interesting corollary effect is that being around people who are overconfident makes you overconfident as well. All of this is from an article in Inc., by the way.
I am part of that fewer than 1%. I know that I’m a bad driver and I have no difficulty saying so .I also know that I am very bad at spatial recognizing, and I am not a patient person. I am not great with money (paying bills and such. Good at not spending it) and I’m very weird compared to normies.
I don’t like kids in general. I don’t think babies are cute and I would rather not spend time with them if I don’t have to. There are individual exceptions, of course, but in general, I’m not a fan of babies. Don’t much like toddlers, either. I find them boring and their need for repetition irritating–probably because it rubs up against my own need for repetition. I like kids starting around nine or ten, when they can talk about real-world things rather than just kid stuff. Funnily enough, kids love me. I think it’s precisely because I treat them like human beings and not kids. I don’t talk to them in any special voice (I save that for my cat), nor do I treat them like babies. It’s just not my style. I don’t talk over their heads, obviously, but that’s because I’m not a jerk. Not in that sense, anyway.
It’s how I treat everyone, really. I meet them where they are and don’t expect them to be something they’re not. There’s a cashier at my local grocery store that loves me. The other day, she told me that I was her favorite, which was flattering. I think it’s because she’s Native American and thinks I am, too. We bonded over Wes Studi (a hot indigenous actor) who was on the cover of a magazine, which prompted her to tell me that she was Native American. She’s also disclosed that she loves masa tortillas, that she’s been having car trouble, and her son had to leave his sick puppy with her. I think the fact that we are both BIPOC and female-presenting added to the bond.
She’s not the only one, though. I’ve had other cashiers tell me things about themselves, some which I would rather not know (one told me about his disturbing relationship with his girlfriend, for example). This is something I’m exceptionally good at–drawing people out. It’s also something I hate about myself because I don’t need all that when I’m just trying to buy some cashew milk, for example. One time, my tree guy called me to talk about tree stuff, but it immediately devolved into him talking about how depressed he was. At that time, I was trying to change the way I interacted with people so I was immediately inundated with their personal problems, but he would just not shut up. He told me about his daughter having problems, how he was trying therapy and light therapy for his SAD, how he thought he should sell his trailer so he could see his daughter, and I’m all, “But my tree though?” It took me a half hour to get him off the phone. I know one of my problems is that I ask follow up questions, but I didn’t even do that with my tree guy!
This happens to me all the time. To the extent that when it doesn’t happen, I’m lost as to how to interact with people. My brother mentioned that it was a gift, which surprised me. The fact that he was able to articulate that I was far and above/beyond other people in this area, I mean. Because we are complete opposites. He is Mr. Logical whereas I am pure emotions. I like to joke that he’s my fixit man and I’m his therapist. This is the dynamics of our relationship, and it’s worked really well for both of us in the last decade or so.
More negatives about me. I’m a slob. I hate cleaning. I am passive-aggressive. I push unpleasant chores off indefinitely and cause myself problems because of it. I don’t take the best care of my health. In Taiji, I tend to rush through everything because I want to get it done as fast as possible. In my private lesson yesterday, my teacher taught me the last part of the Cane Form. I’m pretty damn proud of myself that in the 8 1/2 months since my medical trauma, I’ve learned 2 new weapons forms. I’m especially proud that I taught myself the Fan Form.
For now, though, I’m putting a moratorium on learning new weapons forms so I can clean up the forms I already know. I have to spruce up my Solo Long Form because it’s been so long since I’ve worked on it and my teacher’s teacher has updated it. When I’m able to go back to in-person classes, my teacher wants me to tutor and perhaps substitute teach. Which means I need to have my Solo Forms be rock solid. That’s the Solo Long Form, the Solo Mid Form, and the Solo Fast Form. The Solo Mid Form is the health version of the Solo Fast Form. Once I feel all that is solid, then I want to finish the Karambit Form and prep for learning the Guandao Form.
I’m good at Weapons Forms. I can say that without shame or artifice. I’m good at learning in general, though I’m bad at stick-to-it-ness. If I’m not automatically good at something, I tend to give up quickly. It’s amazing that I am a FromSoft fan, honestly, given that it’s one of the few things I worked through my shittiness. Now I’m firmly mediocre at them! And that is fine.
One interesting thing about having clarity about oneself is when it comes to having kids. I knew from my early twenties that I never wanted them. It’s a good thing that I had that clarity because I had so many people, including my mother, trying to push me into having them. Here’s an area in which I’m not good–I’m easily influenced by others, even if I don’t cave to their pressure. I allow other people’s opinions of me to affect me negatively to an unhealthy extent. My mother spent 15 years pushing me to have kids and if it had been anything else, I probably would have caved. For whatever reason, though, I never once wavered. Oh wait. That’s not true .I wavered once when she was saying for the millionth time that I should have kids. I thought, “I should have a kid so she’ll shut the fuck up”, but then immediately recognized that was a terrible reason to have a kid.
I am not a decisive person in the least, but that was a decision that was easy to make. Any time I thought about having kids, I felt sick to my stomach and my whole body revulsed. I’m being brutally honest here. I would have killed myself if I got pregnant and could not have an abortion. The idea of getting pregnant and having a child filled me with horror.
This is not something I say in polite company, obviously. Or to anyone, really. But it’s what I felt and still feel when I think about having children and it should be enough of a reason not to have kids. But in case it wasn’t, I had a million other reasons. One of them was that I would have been an abusive parent. Maybe not physically, but there’s no doubt I would have screamed at them at one point to get the fuck away from me because I cannot fucking stand the sight of them. As I quipped to my friends, I didn’t have the money needed to pay for my hypothetical kids’ therapists.
This is another uncomfortable truth. Some people abuse their children. Some parents hate their children. This is reality. Women used to tell me that it was different when it was your own kid, and I always snorted in disbelief (internally). I knew it wasn’t true and hated that they would lie to me like that. Millions of people abuse their children. Why would you encourage someone who says out loud that they could do the same to their own children?
That’s how deep the sickness runs in our society, though. If you are a female-presenting person, then you MUST birth children no matter what. I found it so dispiriting when I was in my twenties an now it just enrages me, especially given the bullshit surrounding the Supreme Court.
I knew I didn’t want children and would have been a shitty parent. That should have been enough and how sad that it wasn’t.