I am an excellent self-loather, and I hate myself for it. I actually didn’t realize I had such a knack for it until I started reading Self Loathing for Beginners. It’s a cute book, but it really is for novices so I wouldn’t recommend it if you have anything approaching a decent self-image. I think what makes me expert-level is my ability to look at any situation and hate myself, no matter what the outcome. Take yesterday, for example. It was apparently Princess Day at the Disney Store and I was the only mother in our area code who didn’t outfit my daughter in princess gear when we went to the mall. I felt like a loser mother for depriving little G of Princess Day, so I elbowed and shoved our way in (in a most un-princesslike fashion) to get her a spot. As I surveyed our chaotic surroundings, I felt somewhat less than. My child, despite having a trunk full of princess crap at home, was in plain clothes amidst a sea of tulle and glitter.
I was too busy hating myself for being a bad princess mom to notice the first Princess Lesson, which I believe was learning to balance something on your (no doubt naturally golden, wavy tressed) head, but the second lesson was learning to wave like a princess. This snapped me to attention, as I then began hating myself for an entirely different reason – for exposing my impressionable daughter to misogynistic propaganda, potentially turning her into a Jon Benet-type. As I took her little hand to leave, I tried to look down my nose at the other mothers who I felt were judging me just moments before. I loudly proclaimed as we walked out of the store, LET’S GO TO THE NATURE STORE AND LEARN ABOUT SCIENCE. HEY, LET’S TALK ABOUT MATH ON OUR WAY!” (Which we all know is complete bullshit because I am incapable of doing any math that is not related to a clearance sale, in which case I am suddenly cured of my math amnesia and can calculate % discounts in my head.) It did not help me to hate myself less, but maybe it helped some of the other mothers who may not be as advanced in self loathing as am I. (I try to do my part, I really do.)
As a matter of coincidence, my mother sent me an article last week called “Do You Praise Your Children Too Much?” Or wait. Maybe that wasn’t a coincidence at all.
