The making of a well-adjusted grown-up
I don’t really like people.
This is not a revelation or grandiose admission. I’m just sort of throwing this out there.
But, it occurred to me quite some time ago that I am just not really a “people” person. I am annoyed by bad driving, poor grammar, religious extremism, uneducated commentary, snobbiness, crooked baseball caps, republicans, loud laughs, cat owners, and the implication that my hand should not be shaken firmly because I am a woman.
I often say that I hate people, but that’s not really true. But, people — all people, really (including my own family) just get on my nerves. Most of the time.
I don’t mean to imply that I am superior. I fully expect that I irritate other people, too. In my mind, people aren’t really meant to work with, eat with, shop with, talk with or really see other people all of the time. I treasure my moments alone.
Now, I am not considering selling my belongings and living in a cabin in the woods with just a huntin’ hound and a shotgun to ward off young’uns and lookie-lous. But, I do value the few moments I get from time to time to sit in silence, by myself, and do nothing.
I used to fear that my antisocial behavior would mean that I’d be a terrible parent. I think I’m hanging in there okay, though. I do enjoy spending time with my children. I also enjoy when they’re both sleeping peacefully. A whole lot.
Generally, I think that my irritation with the general populace came about when I realized what it meant for me to be an only child. I like having my stuff and my space. I don’t take orders well at all which makes me a pretty miserable employee. I don’t like to share with others which makes me a terrible “team player.” I am bossy and always have been which makes me pretty difficult to be married to. And, I just noticed that I ended that previous sentence with a preposition and it is eating me alive, but I’m trying to work on “me,” so I am going to leave it there, but it is worth mentioning that my grammar nerdism makes it a little tough to make friends. There aren’t a whole lot of other people out there who would happily discuss when one must use “lie” instead of “lay.”
So, all of this has me wondering if your position as a child in a family helps to shape the rest of your personality. Am I am who I am because I am an only child? Did I forever mold my kids’ personalities by virtue of the fact that I decided to have them both and to space their births three years apart?
Feel free to weigh in here.
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