A Stranger in My Own Life

The fact.
I was a mirror child,
Lost in other peoples patchwork descriptions of me.
Not sure of who I was and hiding behind second guessing to try to make myself acceptable,
but here and now,
on the other side of the mirror, I am just me...mostly.
I do get blind-sided by the odd comment. Not realising that I am absorbing rather than considering.
(Ah yes "the great absorbatron" that was my personality.)

But here I am now, largely just me, and that's pretty odd.
It's also odd that other people are just them - and I can see them getting things right for themselves - and getting in their own way,  making good and bad decisions - and all just muddling by as best they can.

The people I know are not all judging me all the time. In-fact most of them barely notice me. They are far too wrapped up in their own problems and pursuing their own goals, to really register me that much at all.
I'm surprised though, when I stop looking at myself twice, and stop anticipating that I will give them a reason to dislike me if I don't guard everything - that I make people laugh, lots of people around me laugh  - and not at me either! People ask me to do things with them, and some people seek me out for company. I am not the heinous and unlike-able person my parents convinced me I was.
I have a mirror of my own to hold up to other people,and the view in it has changed.
I am seeing them differently, seeing more of the kindness and ease in them, seeing their thinking of me and my happiness as I think of theirs - and that's...not new? but more and more frequent.
I do not fear them so much nor their judgement. Even if it was bad it would not define me any more,
and so I see it sometimes as mistakes and unintentional.

I met another Narcissist - she flew her colours when I crossed her.
Her needs should have subsumed mine.
Her anger should have cowed me.
Her entitlement should have forced me to give up my needs and subsume myself to her.

Instead I stood - angry but controlled - and faced her down - and she...had nothing.

It surprised me but it would seem that they really do have nothing but a furious sense of their own entitlement to have the world as they see it should be. With them stood at the top, just a little more special and a little more precious - and a little more real - than all the rest of us.

As this new narcissist showed her fury and twisted back and forth to get what she wanted, I watched with some curiosity and openly disagreed. Thinking, "You are small fry compared to the dragons I have faced.

It was sad - could she not stop herself - or didn’t try, and I felt a small measure of pity for her.

Later - when she was still investing energy and fury into hating me - I was amazed at the waste and weakness of it, the misguided effort.
Her attempts to diminish me instead diminished her.

Is hating always like that?
Is this is a lesson to learn?