Remember when you were all set to go to the 7th grade dance, your first one, and though you thought you had on the right clothes, your hair was doing more or less what it was supposed to, and you didn’t have any new zits that day, even though everything was seemingly just right for your grand entrance into the mysterious world of boys-and-girls, of sex, of love, of life, even though everything was going for you, you still felt like something, something was going to happen to prevent you from making that entrance, that maybe nobody would like you, or your breath would smell bad, or god forbid nobody would dance with you? So then you mention the fact to your mom, and she says what moms all over the world say to their children under similar circumstances:
“Be yourself.”
And you go, “Oh. Okay. Myself. Right.”
And then you roll your eyes with that whatEVerrr look, and you go to the dance and everything is fine, because nobody cares about what you’re wearing or your zits or lack of them or your breath, because they are all worried about those very same things about themselves, and haven’t the time of day to give to you whoever you are, and there’s no more pretense and everybody has a good time. Right?
And they all lived happily ever after.
Right?
Well, what if, what if, you never really got that, “Be yourself” thing?
Be myself?
What is that?
This is today’s struggle for me. (Who am I kidding, “today’s”? How about “this year’s”? “this century’s”?)
Who AM I?
What is real?
Oh, I can name labels. Lots of them. Even this blog-persona I’ve crafted has a label, sort of.
Let’s see: Mom. I’m Mom of a twenty-something married woman. I’m Waldorf Mom to a 5th grader and a 1st grader. I’m Mom of a child with “special needs”.
And what else? Here’s a few: I’m a channel. Psychic. Writer. Aspiring writer. Divorcee. Multiple times. Single mom. Daughter. Sister. Lover. Bitch. Liar. (oh wait, wasn’t that a song? shit)
But they all fit, at least partly, yet do they define me?
And if they don’t, what does?
Working on it. I’ll keep you posted.
[tags]introspection, boring, sorry[/tags]
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