Living in the Superlative

I spend a lot of time lately trying to figure out how my life might have been different if I hadn't been raised by wolves as my friend Vicki likes to say. She was also brought up a different sort of way than most kids and so she and I have some similarities in our world views. She is also what I could call a wise person. A sage where all things psychological and sociological are concerned. She and her partner, my best friend, J, told me recently that I live in the superlative.
su·per·la·tive (s-pûrl-tv)
adj.
1. Of the highest order, quality, or degree; surpassing or superior to all others.
2. Excessive or exaggerated.
3. Grammar Of, relating to, or being the extreme degree of comparison of an adjective or adverb, as in best or brightest.
n.
1. Something of the highest possible excellence.
2. The highest degree; the acme.
3. Grammar
a. The superlative degree.
b. An adjective or adverb expressing the superlative degree, as in brightest, the superlative of the adjective bright, or most brightly, the superlative of the adverb brightly.
[Middle English superlatif, from Old French, from Late Latin superltvus, from Latin superltus, past participle of superferre, to carry over a person or thing, exaggerate : super-, super- + ltus, past participle of ferre, to carry; see tel- in Indo-European roots.]
su·perla·tive·ly adv.
The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2009. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.
Let's take these one by one, shall we?
1. Of the highest order, quality, or degree; surpassing or superior to all others.
Well, thank you! I have spent my life trying to achieve some sort of intangible level of perfection or achievement that will mean I've done "it". Whatever "it" is. Growing up, I was raised around a few cousins...really quality folks. Matt, Brad, Casey, and Jodi. We played together at family dinner every Sunday, climbed trees, jumped on the trampoline, whatever. Every Sunday, my family would come for dinner out to my Great-Grandmother's house where I lived too. She and I would get up early in the day and cook for hours and hours. Then, we'd eat. I sat in the same seat for years and years, at the periphery. At the end of the table. Everyone else would talk and laugh and I would sit, eating, wondering why it was that I didn't feel a part of this. I was family, after all. If I had people in the world, it was them. So why was I so nervous? So...isolated? In my mind, those relatives, coming in from town were so cosmopolitan. Even the ones who lived right next door. They had a big television, a wall of movies. They went to the local town of 30,000 people 20 minutes away to see movies. They had new clothes, new cars, friends, soda. I had a doll. Dirt. Chicken eggs. I had books and my imagination and the grass outside the back porch. Looking back, I was so lucky to have someone who loved me as much as my great grandmother - but what does a 60 year old woman know of the desires of a 7 year old girl? I tell you all that to say that I was formed, in those years, into a girl, a woman, who is constantly in need of proof. From the world and to the world. I want proof from the world that it is what I think it is and I will give the world proof, over and over again, that I mean something. That I'm worth something. And so that drives me toward #2:
2. Excessive or exaggerated.
I suspect that THIS is what J and Vicki are talking about when they say "superlative". And it's true, I speak, live, think, exist in the superlative. Nothing is every just okay, it's always HORRIFIC or FANTASTIC!!! Nothing is every red, it's CRIMSON WITH FUCHSIA! I am big, obtrusive, loud, obnoxious. It's a flaw. I don't know when I got this way. I haven't always been so loud...so...extreme. In point of fact, I once stuttered and cringed into corners. I think at some point in my life, somewhere about the time I was taking left hooks from a particularly nasty boyfriend, I decided that I wasn't going to do that shrinking violet thing any more. I was going to make my opinions known. I was going to change the world. I was going to do WHATEVER I WANTED TO DO. Period. And I have, for years now. But as I get older, I keep realizing that I'm much more satisfied at the end of the day if I listen more than I talk...and so #3:
3. Grammar Of, relating to, or being the extreme degree of comparison of an adjective or adverb, as in best or brightest.
My biggest and most pronounced fear is leaving behind my children and husband and friends and family and not having changed someone's life. Not having made the world a better place. I want to be the best and brightest. It has become a pathological need at this point. I want my children to know that I did EVERY SINGLE THING I could do to make their lives worthwhile and joyful. I want my husband to know that I did EVERY SINGLE THING I could do to make his life wonderful. To cook him meals and kiss him and talk with him about our future and past. I want the world to know that every day I burned and buzzed with the desire to help people feel better. To explain WHY some people get sick and some people don't. That I burned to help other people understand and love this world as much as I do.

Vicki would say that I should just try and make each day as good as it can be and quit striving for the superlative. But it's too late for me. I AM superlative. I'm trying to get better at being the quieter ones. We'll see.