Wah, wah, wah. What about me? What about my feelings? My desires? My turn?
Sometimes I’m such an infant. The worst thing I can be is all about me.
Why? Because everybody’s all about themselves. Now I’m just like everybody else. What good is that? I’m instructed: “Don’t be conformed to this world. Be transformed by the renewing of your mind!”
If I want to stand out from the crowd, I have to quit trying to get the last word in. I have to stop thinking I have to be included. I have to give up “calling shot gun” in the car.
Everything doesn’t have to be “fair.” If someone gets a new toy, I don’t have to have one. If somebody’s telling a story, I have to stop interrupting with anything that includes “I,” “me,” or “my”.
If I soil myself, I have to clean it up. Nobody’s going to change my diaper anymore. This of course is a metaphor for relationships, but also for literally soiling myself. That ship has sailed. I’m a big boy now.
When I’m in a group picture, no more passive-aggressively commenting about my hair in attempts to get a compliment. Those days are so over. Sherry Davidson always did that in 3rd grade. I hated her.
I’m well past the pacifier age. No more putting junk food, cigarettes, beer, and pot in my mouth. I’m 67 years old for crying out loud!
“What about me?” I have stop being such a baby. I’ve got to think about others. Starting now! From now on, I’m thinking about you!
So what do you think about me?