Changing Who You Are

Think about the thing about you that you secretly hate the most. Not your gut, your hair, etc. A character trait (if there is such a thing, which, contrary to postmodern theorizing, I think there is, based solely on a study of my own neuroses...or perhaps my bad character traits are simply a story whose fiction I have come to believe--which suggests these flaws do "exist," if only in the conversations I have with myself...okay, I'm truly going off the deep end. ANYWAY).
Once you are an adult, how do you go about changing the most important things about yourself that you don't like? Jung says that we should create a new reality for ourselves, deliberately, through language and action. Of course, the issue is the difficulty in embarking on these activities. I propose that we...me...I have a love/hate relationship with my bad character flaws. They are really bad for you, say, like tequila...but indulging in it feels...comforting? No, it's always bad (think: slapping yourself on the hand constantly), but you can't stop...so maybe it's more like nicotine...

We CRAVE those flaws because when we do, we....Damn! I crave my flaws because when I do, I can fall back into comforting routines and rituals, that, although really self-destructive and negative, are familiar. A person I know talked about the physical and mental withdrawal from smoking cigarettes, how she just stayed in her apartment, staring, hugging a pillow. Thinking about trying to change what's really not healthy in my relationships with my significant others is sort of like that. Because, hugging the pillow and staring, I have to face the ugliness of my behavior. And who wants to do that?

As you can see, I'm trying to talk myself into change. Mother's Day was yesterday and I feel like a crappy mom, a crappy wife. I suck at saving, so instead of the cool helium and banner party I wanted to create for A.'s third birthday, I had to settle for some dollar store party hats, bubbles and eight Spongebob party cups. But that's only the material part of my failure. The time is now to proactively deal with why she follows me from room to room. Why I tell her things that I know her little brain is construing as somehow being her fault. It is slowly breaking my heart to hear her say "Can I come with you?" "Stay with me..." "Are we all going to stay there together?" Please God, let me not through my bad character traits, sap her of her joyful spirit. Please don't let her hate me or herself because of my choice to be more than just her mommy, and PLEASE let me stop aiming negativity at her because the intellectual work I also love seems so far away, or because things in MY life aren't the way I would like. She deserves so much more than that. Phrased more positively: How can I make her proud of the woman that I am continuing to become? Phrased more intimately: How can I make myself proud of the woman I am continuing to become?