Conceited, Argumentative and Selfish

"Narcissism as natural self-love is essential to survival. It is what makes us value ourselves, and find purpose in life. Essentially, self-love is necessary for one's self-preservation. Everyone has some narcissistic traits, however being conceited, argumentative, or selfish doesn't mean you have a nasty personality disorder." ~Pamela Kulbarsh

By age 56, several growth periods pushed me out of my comfort zone. Personal arrogance protected me from automatic deference to authority. An argumentative attitude asserted my separation from the status quo. In a system implicitly restricting female individuation, my separation from traditional expectations created a mighty ruckus at family dinner tables. This included my family-of-origin and my family-of-creation because real change changes reality. It's painful growing up a little later than we should have; but late is better than never. At least I believe this to be true. 

At about thirty-some years of age, defining myself rose to the top of my 'To-Do' List, though this entailed resolving whether or not it was selfish for a family to microwave burritos so Mom could attend college. (Selfishness runs a close second to not nice on my 'Don't-Do' List). Even if it’s ordinary for midlife housewives to go back to school, it was extraordinary for me to resist resistance and persist in my persistence: pursuing my goals rather than diminishing them as unimportant. Cherries Jubilee is definitely better than cherries-in-a-can, but my budding self could no longer be restrained in a 12x12 kitchen. Maybe that’s one reason why CZ-in-a-can erupted into flames when homework was alleged to be less important than fine cuisine. I began thinking about male & female stereotypes, questioning sacrosanct prescriptions mandated by God, asking myself what it meant to be liberated and whole.

The human drive towards freedom is a mystery to me. The old way of being becomes insupportable and yet, we resist toppling family systems that while dysfunctional, are tolerably ‘functional.’ Stifling maturation is an invitation for pathological defenses to imprison us with distorted perceptions. If we’re lucky, denial’s stranglehold will eventually release its grip when our lives become unmanageable, forcing us to face a reality we’d rather deny.

The truth of authentic change is: what once was no longer is and renewal of relationship is mandatory. When we change at a core level of self, everything shifts. Prior relationships either accommodate our change...or they don’t. One person’s change in the family mobile impacts every other person connected to them. If people dislike the person we’re becoming, they are invited to create new relationship with us. Or call it quits. Tell us they don’t love us anymore. We have unwittingly opened Pandora’s box and what was unleashed is no longer within our power to regulate. 

This is what makes authentic change so terrifying. Perhaps we know liberation comes at a high price, even if we’re not consciously aware of the price we’ll pay. If our fear of rejection overrides our desire for freedom, we'll resist change in order to keep the peace; though there is no peace if we are lying to ourselves. 

Healthy narcissism means loving ourselves for who we are, even when we transition from one phase of development to another. Perhaps our willingness to placate a dysfunctional system hinges on our toleration for rejection? I have to say though; we are far better equipped to tolerate rejection if we have heeded the inner call for freedom.

Now maybe there are wise souls who manage change without being conceited, argumentative and selfish, though I don’t usually see this happening very often. Healthy people struggle defining themselves as separate, yet connected individuals. Healthy people search for authentic voice, toning down arrogance as self-confidence increases. Healthy people lose the compelling drive to win arguments once they are capable of validating themselves. This process takes time, especially if we have been systematically trained to silence personal difference in a hopeless attempt to control reality.

“…a narcissist's behavior is premeditated and volitional. The narcissist is able to tell right from wrong and to distinguish between good and evil. You don't get off on a mental plea when you know what you're doing is wrong. Lacking empathy, the narcissist is rarely remorseful.” ~Pamela Kulbarsh

My arrogance, contrariness and selfishness did not exempt me from accountability for harming other people. The complexity of respecting my process while also respecting friends and family was inextricably connected to a sense of moral responsibility. It would have been easier to meet my own needs had I not been concerned about other people’s welfare. But then again, consideration for my impact on others illuminated the right path, a path mediated by values pulling me back to center.

Bridging the span between motherhood and separate self was an uncertain struggle for balance. If my arrogance was misplaced, my argumentative nature inappropriate, or my selfishness hurtful, a healthy conscience reined me back from narcissistic irresponsibility and the inevitable destruction of important relationships. Perhaps the blessing of an empathic heart prevents healthy narcissism from degenerating into unhealthy self-absorption.

On days when my teens needed lovin’ from the oven, Mama studied in the kitchen as the yeasty perfume of home baked cinnamon rolls wafted through the house. Our dinner conversations changed, too. We transitioned from talking about tattoos and tongue piercings to rousing debates about women’s roles, men’s roles and our hopes for a better future. As long as no man competed with my cooking, gender roles had become pragmatic social constructs defining tasks, not people.

Once I could make connections between my automatic behavior and socialization, my attitude change was shockingly quick. Of course, this had a healing impact on my children; though unbeknownst to me, it challenged the hierarchical structure holding our family together. My change was a gut level change impacting every relationship in my life, including my relationship with my husband who only appeared to be growing with me.

If I may be so rude as to sum up his capacity for authentic change however, Rosbeth Moss Kanter said it best: "Change is like putting lipstick on a bulldog. The bulldog's appearance hasn't improved, but now it's really angry."

Hugs to all,

CZBZ

Resources 

Kulbarsh, Pamela. Malignant Narcissism: Perverted Self-Love

Stormchild. Gale Warnings, When to hold 'em? When to fold 'em?