I Am Nothing If Not Self-Aware

I am aware that it is self-absorbed to
take a lot of solo shots. But it's my thang.
And I don't care.

On Thanksgiving Eve I received the blog comment "You are such a fake bitch."

Whaaat?

The next morning, while calling my family to wish them a happy holiday, I shared this with my mom and grandma. Typical Thanksgiving banter, obv. My complaint, though, wasn't that someone had left me a mean note, "I mean, duh, IAAB!" it was that I do not perceive myself as being fake (on this blog). (In-person is another story because sometimes it is socially required of you. I mean, we are not animals.)

But this blog is a forum for me to share my feelings/genius musings as well as a diary to account for this portion of my life.

Yes, I am a total revisionist historian and yes my feelings and opinions might tap dance all over the chart from one day to the next, but I am not fake! I can be a bitch one minute and nice the next. But that's not fake!

My mom's response to all this was, "Well at least you are self-aware."

And that's the truth. And, to go along with this recognition of perception, I also make an effort to be introspective. This includes conducting an awful lot of internal therapy sessions. How are we feeling today? Do you hate everyone and everything? Oh things are going well? Isn't that grand.

Very exciting, I know, but it helps me stay sane.

And so I've done some pondering lately about all the upcoming excitement involved in my trip home. Twelve days of family and friends (and hopefully warmer weather). Celebrating Christmas, reuniting with my closest college pals and high school buddies (one perk of going to school in the same city you were raised), and of course my younger brother's wedding.

Have I mentioned that? I'm not sure. The first thing anyone says when they hear about it is "Wait, how old are they?" They are young, but also the most mature people ever and have been dating since high school. When my brother called me last year to tell me he was going to propose, my reaction was, "Oh wait, you aren't married already?"

So the fact that he is getting married before me is a non-issue. It was assumed - especially after I broke up with The College BF to move to New York - that it would happen. Also the fact that I can't even make a long-term commitment to my gym membership points to the fact I might not currently be ready for long-term monogamy.

It is also fine that I'm sans date. The idea of babysitting someone instead of spending time with all the family in town is not appealing.

These areas expected to cause concern have not, which is great.

But I have unearthed one small feeling of apprehension. It's begun to bubble up that a certain Spotlight-Demanding Oldest Child Who Typically Thinks The Universe Revolves Around Her might have a slight problem with not being the center of attention.

And so I've been practicing a good mantra to deplete my self-absorption: "It's not all about you."

It won't be, and it will be perfect.

(But since this blog is all about me because it's mine! aren't we proud of my mature emotional progress??)