I’ve already expressed my disdain for Channel Ten’s breakfast show host Paul Henry, and I can’t say I’ve exactly softened, however I did watch him this morning, and I found myself strangely feeling a touch of envy for the Kiwi export that reminds me a lot of Chucky.
With all the subtlety of his doppelganger wielding an axe in Child’s Play, Ten’s brekkie host couldn’t help but remind viewers on Bastille Day that he hated the French. In fact he re-enforced it at least quatre times!
He then introduced the latest Masterchef contestant leaving the kitchen by saying how utterly embarrassing and awful it must have been for her given she was all the way over in Italy and then had to travel back to Australia, with the ‘winners’, her clearly being ‘the loser’, and then asks her if she was shoved up the back of the plane because no one wanted to know her anymore?
He does this a lot. He introduces a guest by slapping them in the face, then grinning, “Chew on that.”
What struck me this particular morning was that there was a man on a high profile but so far low rating show, unknown by many of the country’s viewing public, knowing the media love pointing out its’ waning audience numbers, but by golly this guy still seems to be genuinely having a ripper of a time.
He’s happily playing the Captain of a sinking ship and doesn’t seem to care less what people think. And mind you, I have little doubt he is winning over a select type in our community, picture the ones bashing away on their circa‘84 Dell computers, blogging hateful bile about all sorts of stuff worth moving on from.
Or when they’re not at their desks, they’re out picking a face to face fight with some poor customer service type bugger.
But seriously how nice would it be to have the confidence of a Paul Henry?
Out there in the big, wide world, there are those battling through life because of conscious or un-conscious low self esteem, and then there are those that have probably turned their damage into a gift by being so hardened that no one’s opinions are ever going to stick.
Although I’m always a little suspicious of the latter, as I have dated a series of narcissists, which fits this sort of bill, and believe me they’re far scarier than Chucky.
They’re like cockroaches in a nuclear disaster; they’ll explode into your life before you even see them coming and while all the particles that once resembled your life are still floating in the air, sensing controlling you is no longer a given, they’ll disappear as fast as they arrived.
You’ll be left shattered, confused and temporarily deeply damaged. For those of you wondering if you’re currently with one, or to make sure you see them coming, Google a brilliant article by Melanie Tonia Evan, Narcissistic Abuse – The Truth.
So……how to get a bullet proof spirit without turning into a narcissist? That is the question.
Sadly women are the worst at getting this right as they’re programmed from an early age to believe that everyone else must come first, especially if they’re a mum.
Author Cheryl Richardson was even booed when she first appeared on Oprah after suggesting women make should make themselves Number # 1 for the sake of their children. The concept did not go down well.
Her book The Art Of Extreme Self Care poses lifestyle questions and offers tips that are easy to write off if you’re running a busy household and attached to wearing the martyr hat, but as my friend told me sadly that his child had told another mother that his wife, the mother of his child, “gets really angry a lot”, I can’t help but feel if more women replaced just one thing in their week that was about them, they wouldn’t be feeling like the Bride Of Chucky so much of the time.
DO YOU SUSPECT YOU’VE DATED A NARCISSIST? PLEASE SHARE YOUR STORY WITH OTHERS IF YOU FEEL COMFORTABLE.