Recently I have realized a few precious little nuggets of truth about myself. And by "realized" I mean that these little nuggets have been shouting in my face like a toddler begging me to watch him jump up and down for the hundredth time and I have just now tuned in to what he was actually saying.
The first sweet little pearl I realized about myself, is that I have some difficulty delegating daily tasks. In other words, putting other people in charge of things in my life makes me... uncomfortable. I'm, hmm... what do they call it? Oh, yes. A Control Freak.
That doesn't mean I don't want other people to do tasks for me, it means I want them to do tasks for me the right way. And the right way is my way. So, if they can do the task as if they are my clone, I am all about it.
But to be fair to myself, I don't exactly set a high bar. Completing the task as if you were a clone of me requires putting it off until the last minute, working as quickly as possible to just get it over with already, and yelling at everybody to leave you alone because you've got stuff to do and no time as a result of step one (putting off until the last minute).
The second darling little gem I realized about myself is that I have a hearty sense of self-confidence. In other words, I am aware of my redeeming qualities. Okay, okay, I'm as arrogant as a teenage boy with a pocketful of fireworks.
My brain tells me I can do things that I probably cannot actually do, which is why I spent an afternoon in my backyard trying to summon the courage to somersault. It seemed so easy when I was 5 and my head was closer to the ground. I was ridiculously afraid, but my brain just kept saying, "who cares that your high school graduation was more than a decade ago and you've been eating Cocoa Puffs like they're a health food. Show those three kids you've birthed how a somersault's REALLY done." I did successfully complete a somersault that day, in case you were wondering, because I can do anything.
Apparently, though, this inflated self-confidence is actually normal according to the TV show Brain Games (Yes, I get my neuroscientific data from Netflix and then fancy myself a psychologist. See what I mean?). This inflated self-confidence is what gives people the resilience to try again after they fail.
You do it too, right? Can you think of a time you got in way over your head (there's a somersault pun here, somewhere) because you over-trusted yourself? Like when you took your Nintendo Wii apart to retrieve the 2 quarters and Cheez-It your toddler shoved inside only to realize no YouTube tutorial could ever help you put it back together? Or that time you tried to talk your husband into building a shed with you from scratch even though simply assembling Ikea furniture together tests your marriage? Or when you asked for a unicycle for Christmas as a teen and sat on it three times before abandoning it in the garage (That was probably for the best. Friends>Riding Around on a Unicycle Like a Lost Clown)?
Surely you thought of something and, you know what that means? It means you're just as arrogant as I am. And if you think you aren't, well, that's a bit arrogant of you, don'tcha think? Admittedly, you may actually be a little less arrogant than I am. I'm pretty much winning at the arrogance thing.
Don't worry about it. It's normal, remember? It's just irritating when you start to notice it in other people because other people are arrogant control freaks without realizing that, unlike them, you actually have game enough to back your arrogant control freakishness up. Just tell them, "Back off, peasants! I have good reason to be arrogant."
It's especially irritating to see it on social media (or in blog posts). You can't get on social media without hearing a cacophony of voices telling you what everyone else is doing wrong as if an associate's degree in General Studies makes them an expert on generally everything.
But if that inflated sense of self is truly what makes the world go round, I guess I can put up with Dog-Mom Tori offering me advice on how to sleep train my children or Cut Kyle telling me to eat healthy and exercise for my mental health as if healthy food grew on trees and exercise were as easy as, like, I don't know, getting up and walking around.
So, if you have any ideas on how to quell my freakish arrogant control tendencies, I would love to pretend to appreciate your expert advice. Or if there is like some kind of probiotic shake I can drink for it, that'd be great, too.