And you are too...Was that too much? Do I come right out and label her at age 8? Labeling theory - I learned about it in psych, and then later saw it in my own life. It's the theory that posits we become, in a self-fulfilling prophecy sort of way, what others say we are. So, the theory notes that if you are in a supportive, positive community that reminds you that you are bright, capable and good, you actually "live up to" those images. The same holds true for negative commentary and labels that are placed upon one as a child.

Not sure that I buy it...I think that there's something in between. I look at my own labels, my own life. The weight of the primary people - my family of origin and the things that they said to me as a child were imprinted upon me from a really young age. Here are the words:

hyper, too fast - slow down, sloppy, careless, slob, fat, stupid, do you have a brain?, are you crazy? why do you push so hard for the wrong things?, why can't you be normal?, why can't you be good? bad kid.

A criminologist that held dear the labeling theory would say that I have the absolute right foundation for spending a life time behind bars. According to the messages about myself that I retained - I spent the better part of my childhood and early twenties living those labels out. The next generation of the words? My friends would say:

spaz, crazy, dangerous, self-destructive, freak, nightmare, pain in the ass, drama queen, center of attention

But also:

smart, funny, exciting, party girl, popular, brave, bold, doesn't take any shit from anyone, fighter, lover, rebel

Then what happens? Somewhere along the line, I realized something so critical to the inside voices in my head that would one day repeat not just the negative words, but the positive ones as well. Maybe it was the therapeutic process coming to the rescue. Maybe it worked in exactly the way it was supposed to. In the beginning, and as with everything in my life - it's all about how I take it in, what filters I apply and what ends up with me, in me, part of me - in a way that drives my behavior.

There weren't always the bad words - the negative words - there were also the amazing kudos from my parents, daddy in particular. I don't know why I wasn't able to receive them, but I know that I was not. As a result, I went forward with my life labeled the bad girl - and that's exactly how I felt. Bad. Then I started talking about it. A lot. I talked to therapists, support groups, friends, and finally family. What did I discover? An amazing revolution happened. My thinking changed entirely - in a complete departure from what they thought I would become, I changed.

I found ways to channel the energy, I studied, I went to grad school, I held steady jobs. I helped people. I worked with some of the most disadvantaged populations out there for little money or recognition and an incredible sense of accomplishment in their stead. I remember a woman who said, "you can't think your way into right living, you have to live your way into right thinking. Start acting like the person you want to be, and one day, you'll realize you did it".

That day is today. I have a blueprint now that reminds me of all the things I could be - and I know both sides of the coin. I remember my physics teacher saying "if you used 50% of your smarts, you'd be amazing" I also remember hearing "if you don't slow down, you're going to hurt yourself and everyone around you".

I realize now that it's a choice. The labels are what they are - they are an outsider's perception of who I am, framed by one person's unique point of view. In the end, my framework is defined by me.

This I know - my Sophie is an adrenaline junkie. This I don't know, will she turn out okay? Will she thrill seek to keep adding to the chaos and serotonin levels driven by adding more and more and more to her life the way that I do? I know why I do it. Sometimes, it's just because I like the way it makes me feel. Sometimes, I do it because something's missing, or I'm bored. Sometimes I do it because I have to, because my body is in adrenaline withdrawal and I need a fix. I don't know that I want to change it, but at least I know what drives it.

We rode roller coasters yesterday. Sophie screamed "mooooommmmmyyyy" and I thought "damn, she's too young, she's going to never want to do this again" and then at the last jerk of the air brakes, when our bodies leaned forward then plunked back into the padded black seat, she looked at me, panting, working hard to catch her breath, her eyes wide, and then she smiled. "Mommy, that was sooooo COOL! AWESOME!" and the almost obligatory "can we do it again?"...

I know that she loved spending so much concentrated time together, just the two of us. We walked, and held hands and I hugged her so hard and said, "I'm so glad that we can do this together," and she looked at me and said, "why do you like it so much, mommy?"

"I'm an adrenaline junkie. You are too."