Meet Me, The Narcissist
On a recent Literate ApeCast called “Guns, Parenting, and Poverty,” Don Hall and I were discussing what we, as a society, can do to help curb gun violence. Specifically, we were talking about calling out the warning signs often displayed in the bright spotlight of social media posts. I made the argument that it is up to us—fellow citizens, neighbors, family members, and parents—to say something when we see something. To invest a little action in to maintaining a bit more peace and order in our public spaces and places of worship. Hall scoffed and said, “Oh… you’re expecting parents to turn their children in when they threaten to kill people.”
And sure, that does seem like a big, even cartoonish ask, but, yeah, that’s what I’d like to see happen. Maintaining a safe, functioning society ain’t easy. And while I hope I’m never faced with the decision to rat out my potentially murderous child, I also hope that I’ll have the conviction, strength, and bravery, to do the right thing.
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The other night, my wife Katie and I were on our back patio chatting and swatting mosquitos. We got on a topic that we often get onto, which focuses around Katie’s idiosyncrasies. Why is she the way she is? What past influence impacts her daily? This particular night, she asked me why I think she’s so shy in front of people despite being incredibly intelligent and funny. Like, the idea of getting up on a stage to speak into a microphone or project out to an audience as little as one is terrifying to her. For me, it’s second nature. I’m often more comfortable on the stage than I am in the scrum of everyday settings. And for me, the more butts in seats, the more confident I am.
My answer was simple. She lacks the confidence and self-esteem to do so. And that’s not because she has low self-esteem or lacks confidence, I told her. It’s because all throughout her childhood, when she would speak up to perform in her living room, she would be met with resistance, annoyed reactions, and encouragement to pipe down. Her natural show(wo)manship was systemically stripped away. Katie was—and remains—a weirdo and the folks around her during those early years didn’t know what to do with it.
Hearing my answer, Katie looked at me with wide eyes and said, “Yeees. That’s it. You’re right. See? Who needs therapy when your friends can diagnose you. Okay, now you ask me something you don’t know about yourself.”
Me? I see a professional therapist weekly. I also talk things out ad nauseum with my trusted friends/advisors (my god, have you listened to the ApeCast?), so I have a pretty good understanding why I am the way I am. And I try quite hard to be self-reflective and self-aware as a means of being a good social citizen. In short: don’t take up too much space, don’t be too loud, share the spotlight, and bask in the glow of others. I try
But this was the game we were playing so I thought about it. “Why do I hold grudges?” I asked her.
“Because you’re a narcissist,” she replied without any effort. Like she’d had this one in the chamber for years and was all too ready to expel its truth point blank into my face.
According to the Webster’s definition, I don’t think I’m a narcissist. I’m full of more self-loathing and honesty than I am any exaggerations of my self-importance. I mean, I want to be important. Of course, I want to matter to people and the world. I wouldn’t be opposed to breaking the internet with news of my demise, should that day come. But I don’t think I have an excessive admiration or infatuation with myself. I do think I have value and talent and other things that make prevent me from being a total waste of flesh and drain on society, but those feelings are tempered. But I do hold grudges and I wanted to dig a little deeper into this
And here’s where I’ve landed. I’m a hypocrite. I prefer to live life by the Platinum Rule, which is, “Treat others as they would have you treat them.” The Golden Rule, “Treat others as you would have them treat you,” always struck me as selfish. And, yeah, narcissistic. As if everyone around you wants to be treated the same as you do. No, people want to be treated the way they want to be treated, and that’s what we should do. But, perhaps, I do get a little twisted up when I am not treated the same way I would treat others. But, perhaps it’s not hypocrisy, but a miscalculation on human behavior that does me in.
My grudges are not what I would call active. They exist in the bowels of my brain, filed away appropriately so I can access them with ease, should the need arise. And when would I need these grudges? To write a story, present a life lesson to my children, relish in the knowledge that I was write and someone else was wrong. Ah… there it is.
I have to be right. But do? And haven’t I been? Objectively? A few months back, I wrote about one of the many reasons I was turned off to Judaism. And, yeah, I was right. And I’m still right. An authoritative teacher should not deny their pupils knowledge and they absolutely should not get angry at the pupils for asking questions. So, yeah, the rabbi stays in the grudge box.
Thing is, I don’t think of my grudges as grudges. I think of them as moments where someone or something revealed themselves to be an asshole. The kind of selfish asshole who eschews the Platinum Rule either on purpose and as part of patterned behavior or by accident when not thinking clearly. It’s the selfishness that gets me. That is the most abhorrent of human behaviors. Yeah, yeah, I do plenty of selfish things like tell my son we’re out of mint chocolate chip ice cream so I can have the last scoop after he’s in bed. So, I’m not perfect. What I try to do though, is, when caught being a selfish prick, I apologize and try to learn to be a better, more thoughtful, aware person. A better example of what humans should look like in a society not on the edge of extinction.
Everyone is flawed. Mistakes, big and small, are inevitable. Recognizing those mistakes and doing better next time is what separates the better people from the people like my rabbi, most of the current GOP, that guy who runs Meta, Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot, and most hedge fund managers. These people who cannot see past their own myopic worldview so often at the cost of harm of others. Greed, over-indulgence, absolute self-certainty. If I got a call today from my rabbi, recognizing how he was the first chink in the armor that ruined Judaism for me, I’d release his file to the shredder. But, no. It’s not apologies alone I’m after. Well, I’m not really after anything. I’ll keep any and all grudges until forever. They don’t weigh me down. What I’m interested in is better behavior. Admitting failure. Recognizing the need to improve, grow, change. Recognizing the needs of others. Finding commonality in a stranger’s strange experience.
I’m starting to sound like a Twitter Liberal demanding all the bad people in the world apologize to me for offending me. And that ain’t it. I’m not offended by anyone’s behavior. And if I am, so what. I don’t hold grudges against people whose actions have not impacted my life. Has Mark Zuckerberg impacted my life negatively? Yeah. Social media has fucked all of us and our weird future in a lot of ways. Same goes for whatever the hell the GOP thinks it’s doing to this country and its people right now. No, I don’t need an apology from Harvey Weinstein. Don’t need one from Will Smith. And I don’t even need one from my rabbi.
The assholes can go on living their assholey lives. But I won’t participate with them. I have my own life to manage and design and I want to be better than they are. In fact, maybe I am. And, okay, fine… maybe I’m a narcissist.
