Is it a little narcissistic to expect a narcissist to behave differently?

I have a friend who was diagnosed with narcissism. (thanks Dr. Goyl). No it wasn't my hairdresser Jim who abruptly cut off our 10 year hair relationship because I was late one too many times. I'm over that, not really all that bitter anymore. No, this was a different relationship, a long term one, and one that I'm pretty much over. The difference is, I'm still a little bitter. But last week, I had an experience which may, just may, reduce the bitterness. If it was only as easy as taking an antacid, I'd have taken it years ago, but unfortunately it seems to come in waves of awareness to let the bitterness die back.

Again, it was a conversation with Dr. Goyl. (I should probably pay this girl). I was upset over something that had happened one evening, and it had made me sort of obsessively distraught. I couldn't get out of my head how seemingly thoughtless the incident was (and no, that particular incident will not be revealed here - you would only think me petty and paranoid) and while I was trying to see it as insignificant and harmless, I kept coming back around to what was he thinking, and what a jerk for doing this to me. And yet, it didn't ruin my night. I enjoyed what I was doing, I had a positive exchange with lots of people and was completely glad I was there. On the drive home, however, the obsessively angry and stunned internal dialogue returned. If it hadn't been so late, I'd have called my sister in Michigan to vent and fan the flames, and then get some consolation in my long suffering woe is me quagmire. Alas, it was late and I didn't want to wake her. And I also knew how she would start before commiserating, and I wasn't in the mood for the running "why are you surprised? He always does this." montage of response. But mainly because it was midnight for her.

So, Dr. Goyl. I got her on the phone, and while navigating my way home, I explained to her what happened. I hadn't really gotten too far, or into the sympathetic tone in her voice, when a new piece raised up. "It's not about you" she said. I thought I agreed, and said "I know." But really continued with "how could he be so thoughtless, and, what must he think of me that he would have done this". And she said again, "it's not about you." And, as though sirens were blaring and a parade of fire trucks was surrounding me in a motorcade, I mentally stopped by the side of the road, and considered, "it isn't, is it!" I suddenly realized fully, that it wasn't a behavior meant to make me look bad, but rather to make him look good. All these years of thinking things were intentionally meant to put me in a bad light, or upset me, or punish me, were not the main point. My getting hurt may have been a bonus, but really, the behaviors, the attitudes, the genesis for the thoughtlessness were really about him.

Here's an example I thought of later which further crystalizes the point. We were on vacation (ok, is it clear by now who I'm talking about?) many, many years ago. I would say during the good times. I was sitting outside a little jewelry store when I overheard him giving advice to his friend (who most likely didn't need it, but that's for another blog on arrogance. I'll get to it eventually). He said (and after 15 years, I paraphrase), "buy her some earrings. It makes you look so good. Little gifts get you really far." I looked at the "gift" bracelet I was wearing, and thought the silver looked a little more grey. Now at the time, I of course knew what a narcissistic thing that was to say, and how the gift wasn't really about me, but I'd never really connected it the same way as I did this night. The objectionable behavior wasn't really about me. It annoyed me and upset me, but it was made to make him look good.

Without recounting all the various slights I've felt over the years, or the numbers of times I've felt singled out for thoughtlessness, I've never put the element of narcissism on my part into the equation. It's really not about me. It's just how he goes about things in the world. We're all narcissists to a point. Many of us blend it with giving, many of us outgrow it (not really counting myself in this one) and most of us eventually shed 75-100% of it in our natural maturity, but some, keep it as a primary modality. That doesn't make it easier to receive, but at least, it helps to realize more fully, "It's not really about me."

Good night good people. don't forget this one. usually I think you should, but maybe not this time.

A Parent's Bat Mitzvah speech

Don't know why, but I was feeling nostalgic and thought I'd revisit this speech from a happy day in my life. My words for Alice, who used to be Isak.

The time will come

when, with elation

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror

and each will smile at the other’s welcome

I chose this poem (from a book, I wish I could find and tell you it’s author)because it sings to me of celebration of who you are. And as our clergy informed me, that’s really why we’re here today. To celebrate who you are now and who you are as a fluid being, ever growing, evolving, learning and renewing. Life is an ongoing process of self acceptance. This doesn’t mean complacency, it doesn’t mean laziness, it doesn’t mean ignorance as bliss. It simply means that you develop a faith in your strength, that you grow a belief in the sincerity of your efforts, that you have a dedication to succeed at those things you set forth to accomplish. I know all of those things are and will be true of you.

Along the way, there will be times of questioning and doubt, but I urge you to know that those are natural and necessary. Just as literature must have conflict for the resolutions to be satisfying, and as the light in nature is made more brilliant by the contrasting shadows, such is life. Such is growth and ongoing happiness. to celebrate your triumphs, acknowledge your struggles, learn from all these experiences and be stronger, wiser, kinder and more accepting along the way. this might be harder than it seems. . . but we are all here to help you on your way.

So, who is this girl we celebrate today?

Isak is a kind, giving, trusting, loyal friend. She’s always been outgoing, making friends easily wherever she is, at school, on vacations, in line at Baskin robbins. When she was in her second year of preschool, she reached out to one of the new kids, and before we knew it, they were fast and furious friends. It turned out they were kindred spirits, and even though the family moved away in 2nd grade, through the wonders of the internet, and the loyalty and strong, strong, connection that exists between them, neither time or distance has altered that friendship. It is so incredible that that friend, Jemma and her Mom and sister, came all the way down from Canada to share in this happy milestone.

Once she has gifted someone with friendship, that bond is lasting. We are here today celebrating with friends from not just preschool, but kindergarten, elementary school and the three middle schools Isak has attended over the last two years. Especially wonderful is that she just started attending her new school in January, and yet, all of her classmates are here today to lend support and to join in the celebration.

Haiku

Today I am a woman, tomorrow I return to the 7th grade .

And although her name, isak means one who laughs in Hebrew, this girl is a serious learner. She is a dedicated student, a deep thinker and infinitely curious quester. (I made that word up) . She brings her imagination, creativity and intelligence to all her endeavors. I have every confidence in her abilities in whatever she applies herself to, whether that be creative writing, or violin, or gymnastics, or drama, or comic strip drawing, or ice skating, or marine biology. And I know that she will be there for me to correct my grammar. Thanks.

I hope that Isak and Milly and I will continue our intense involvement with Kehillat Israel when this proud moment is through. (after a very appropriate resting, breathing period Isak). When we first moved to the Palisades, I didn’t pick this congregation because it was Reconstructionist, but because I wanted us to have a warm, spiritual community to share with our neighbors. What I found however, aside from being a melting pot of menches, was an openness of thought, an invitation to individually explore one’s spirituality and a commitment to community service. It was also the first sect to allow, no, to invite women to particip[ate in all rituals. The founders’ daughter was the first to be Bat Mitzvah’d in 1922, and I’m so proud to say that Isak is the first girl in our family to be Bat Mitzvah’d. Our own Reconstructionist pioneer.

In closing my darling, I give you my ongoing faith and trust, my admiration for the upstanding girl you are, my love forever, my ear and patience, and my pledge to be there for you always, and treasure all of our shared joy, sorrow, & discoveries. I will commiserate in your struggles and I will revel in all your triumphs .

I love you.

Small Town

We have a friend staying with us this weekend, Paul, a friend of Dan's from San Francisco. He arrived this afternoon. We walked into town to have dinner at the local health food brasserie. I love that when I go there, I'm sure to see someone I know. Sure enough, there sat Gregg and his daughter Megan. Megan is one of Milly's little friends and the Dad is a friend of another friend of mine. And, no less heartwarming was seeing the actress from way back on Saturday Night Live, although I can't think of her name, I remember she was funnnnnnnny. I see her all around town. She's sweet, but way, way peculiar. She takes her groceries out of the store in her cart, unbagged, so that she can bag them the way she likes to in the trunk of her car. I've heard her explain this.

After dinner we stopped at Ralphs to get some things that Paul might want to have on hand. Breakfasty things, snacks, the like. So, we're in the ice cream aisle, (who doesn't like ice cream although I think this was for us, not for him per se) and I ask him what else he'd like to have. He says lactaid milk is what he usually drinks. I however heard lactated milk and stopped listening and started thinking "that can' t be what he said". Being me, I verbalize that to Paul and Dan just so we can all have a chuckle. And we pantomime breast feeding, sort of, and mumble little lactating jokes. I like stupid humor. So we're chuckling, giggling even, when the properly dressed Palisadian matron standing 3 feet away, quips, "now that would be a good hostess".. We ROTFL. I'm laughing all the way until we hit the coffee section.

The next adventure consists of watching Dan agonize over getting some decaf coffee which cost $9.88 for 12 ounces, and grumbling that the $9.00 a pound coffee didn't come in decaf. And yet I didn't want to interrupt his process, because I want to support him in his quest to give up his afternoon coffee addiction, so I wanted to make sure he was very happy with his choice of decaf for the afternoons to ensure that he doesn't slip and resume his afternoon coffee addiction.

As I type this, I can hear the high school football team marching band out my back window.

Now, that's the small town I live in. Celebrities at the health food restaurant, witty women in the ice cream aisles, and my darling choosing decaf at the coffee end cap.

Good night good people.

Judema