For the bulk of my twenties I didn’t date.  I was raising my son and didn’t want to complicate a difficult and stressful situation by dating.  I was also not very confident about myself.  Actually it is probably a fairer statement to say I wasn’t very conscious of myself.  When my son turned eighteen that all changed.  I focused more on me.  I worked on the things I didn’t like.  I became comfortable in my own skin and I gained what some might call an overabundance of confidence.  People started to identify me as an ego maniac and although most were doing so lovingly, there was some validity to that assessment.

I am awesome.  I am attractive.  I think people who I spend time with are lucky to have me in their life.  I date hot men, some much younger than I am and I have a hard time not showing off pictures to anyone who will look. I also have no problem admitting any of this publicly.  I am who I am; take it or leave it.

Although my unashamed pronouncement of love for myself certainly bothers some people the most obvious reaction is the desired one.  I get a lot of attention.  I get a lot of attention because I am confident and confidence is something people are drawn to.  I make no apologies for who I am.  I am the first person to admit I am not perfect.  I am quick to make a joke at my own expense and share a story if I do something embarrassing/ stupid /crazy.

Even with all my flaws and the continued process of growing and learning I am always right where I need to be.  I don’t have regrets.  I don’t view any decisions as mistakes.  Everything I experience is simply an opportunity to grow and learn.  I never feel less amazing even when I stumble.  I think everything I do makes me more amazing.

I love myself.  People love me because I love myself.  I won’t ever change that.  People aren’t really wrong when they say I am narcissistic.  I am okay with that because if I don’t love me no one else is going to either.