Things I Wish I Was

Wish I was a little bit taller
I wish I was a baller
I wish I had a girl who looked good
I would call her

—Skee-Lo, “I Wish” 

Lately I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about myself. Actually, I’m always thinking a lot about myself (lots of introspection to be found here!), but the focus lately has been my strengths and weaknesses. 

I wish I was deliberative. I want to make a decision and Goddammit I want to do it now. It’s not that I don’t think about my actions—I just don’t always think about them long enough. I guess I’ve always felt like I’m destined to make the decision I’m going to make, regardless of how long I spend deep in though, mulling over pro and con lists.

I wish I was in the moment. Due to my mild generalized anxiety disorder, I’m constantly fretting about the future. I’m always planning my next move, and I worry about future details ranging from exactly when my friends and I are meeting at the bar to the possibility of my fiancé possibly getting a job that’s not currently a commutable distance at some point five-plus years down the road. Living like this is incredibly stressful for me and annoying to others. Sorry, loved ones, for my lack of chill. 

I wish I was an includer. I want everything I’m involved in to feel exclusive. I do not take well to outsiders. While I have several friends who are constantly asking, “Should we invite Person I’m Sort of Friends With That You’ve Met Once to this?” and ballooning our one-on-one hangout to a seven person shindig, I can’t think of an instance when I’ve been that person. While my includer friends make me cranky at least once a month, I’m ultimately always thankful that I got to meet Person They’re Sort of Friends With That I’ve Met Once again because Person They’re Sort of Friends With That I’ve Met Once is actually pretty cool. Who knew?!

I wish I was kinder. I am not a nice person. I’m not especially mean to people, but it’s just not in my nature to frequently compliment or reassure others. Smiling at strangers and acquaintances isn’t instinctual for me. I don’t have it in me to fake an interest in someone else’s life. I do have a filter, but if I’m going to say something, it’s going to be honest and there’s at least a 25% chance that it comes off as harsh. I’ve been called intimidating, which is impressive, considering I’m barely over five feet tall and have the voice of a rodent with a head cold. Dear world, I promise I’m not an unfeeling person, I just do a great imitation of one. 

I was I was more humble. I’m so into myself that I’m really afraid people will realize how into myself I am. I know it’s not an attractive quality. I feel like my superiority complex sometimes gives me an inferiority complex. The question in my mind is never, “Will I be good enough?” It’s “Will other people realize that I’m the best?” It’s not that I think I’m perfect. It’s just that I think I’m awesome when it comes to some specific things, and when someone doubts it I say it’s them, not me. 

Sometimes I think I really need to work on these things. I need to smile way more and ask about everyone’s kids like I give a shit. I need to be more welcoming to others, like I’d want them to be to me. I need to not make snap decisions. I need to stop thinking about what I’m going to do in the event of [insert your own unlikely tragedy here]. I need to stop being so obsessed with myself. 

But then I think, as much as these are things that I wish I was, I still like the things I am. I like that I’m a doer. I like that I’m direct and confident. I like that my friendship is hard-won (I mean, you have to get over me trying to avoid getting to know you, then you have to deal with me appearing to not give a shit about you until I actually get to know you). 

It’s probably all just part of my clinical narcissism, but ultimately, while I’m trying to be kinder, more inclusive, more thoughtful, less fretful and less self absorbed, I’ve mostly come to terms with who I am. And, surprise, surprise, I still think I’m pretty great.