It's My Fault(s)

This is the time of year when many people take stock of their lives and set goals for self-improvement. I've never excelled at the latter, but I am world-class at the former, and here's the proof: I keep a running list of my faults in a Google doc.

I was vaguely aware when I began the list that the endeavor I was about to undertake was perhaps not the most typical thing for a person to do in his or her spare time. But as my mother has so kindly pointed out, I'm not like other people. I considered adding that to my list but I wasn't sure how to phrase it - do I want to count not being like others as a fault, or should I consider mentioning that I keep track of the unkind things my mother says to me? I'm undecided, but I digress. I have a list of my faults, and I make reference to it on occasion, and one of my two blog readers - not you, Alaska - suggested that I ought to explain why I have such a list.

Several months ago in a fit of uncharacteristic self-esteem I said to my mother, "I don't understand why I'm still single." And I meant it.

Despite the fact that the only time a man has ever called me hot was in an emergency room (the nurse who took my vitals told me, "You're pretty hot, there," and I said, "Thank you"), I felt pretty good about myself.

Then my friend Jordan referred to me as a redhead.

There's nothing wrong with being a redhead, of course. It's fine if that's who you are. The thing is, I didn't know that's who I was. I always thought my hair was brown. My driver's license says my hair is brown - of course, it also says I weigh 140 pounds and I don't think that's been true since I was 13, but I digress (again). I usually describe my hair as brown. But here was this guy calling me a redhead. I don't mind being a ginger, I just want to be a self-aware ginger. I started to wonder, what else do others see in me that I don't see in myself?

So I began a journey of self-awareness and the first thing I did was sit down and write a list of my faults. I was going to start by listing my good points but it was a lot easier to think of faults. It became a pretty big list. I'm up to 178 as of last week. Some are more serious (135 - cowardice) and some are just sort of funny (170 - I follow Kanye West on Twitter). I don't recommend listing your faults as an exercise in self-awareness, by the way. First I felt like an awful person for having so many terrible faults. Then I felt like an awful person because I found so many of my faults hilarious (144 - I have used my cleavage for revenge). But on the upside, I have a humorous anecdote for social gatherings ("Yeah, I know I'm a bad driver. It's okay, it's on my list.")

I've just realized I use a lot of parentheses. Sorry about that. I guess I'm up to 179 now.

Anyway. I think that my original intent was to start knocking faults off my list once I had a thorough compilation, but every time I looked at my list again I thought of things that I hadn't written down yet. So the list continues to grow, and I haven't used a single thing on it as a springboard to self-improvement. The fact that I am okay with this state of affairs is on the list as well. Isn't self-awareness more important than self-improvement anyway?

Probably not, so let's pretend that was a rhetorical question.

So I have a list of my faults and I feel pretty good about it. This will be incredibly beneficial if I ever end up in a serious relationship (not likely, but men lower their standards every single day). Most people slowly discover things about their partners that drive them crazy and question how well they really know the person the married. But I can get all my crazy out right away. If my hypothetical pre-fiancé and I start discussing marriage, I can share my Google doc with him. I can say, "I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into. I understand that you think you love me, but please read this list and then tell me you still want to align our respective credit histories." I'd be doing us both a favor. 

But Jill, you may be thinking, is that really a good idea? Isn't it better to let these things come out later as you spend your lives together? Slowly and one at at time?

You may not be thinking that. What do I know? But I think my way is fair. I don't want a man to marry me under false pretenses. I have no regrets for regifting a religious wall calendar so I could drink milk out of the carton without Jesus watching me. That's the sort of thing you need to know about a person before you jointly enter into a binding legal and social contract. 

I get that maybe my worst-foot-forward approach could keep me single for a long time. But I'm okay with that. Don't worry, you guys - eternity isn't going to be lonely.