Who am I?
I've been given an assignment to help me get a grip on my life. I'm to write about who I am, every day.
I am a mother of three boys. I am a lesbian. I am a writer. I am someone who cares deeply about equality. I love art- weird, funky, off the wall art. I mean, I can appreciate Monet but give me Motherwell any day of the week.
Oh god, that all sounds so hokey. I’m working on an assignment to try and pull all the dangling strings in my life together. I’m not good at these kind of deeply reflective writing assignments. I want to be irreverent, goof off and make everyone laugh. I was too shy as a kid to be the class clown but the inner clown in me was always there, putting together words to frame any situation into something funny.
My sister once said to me she could have seen me go on tour as a stand up comedian.
Hello? I’m shy, I always responded.
She never quite understood that. I was always talking in front of this group or that group, doing a presentation here, traveling for business there. I’ll post the most intimate details of my life in my blog without a second thought.
But I’m shy.
Okay, so I’ll add shy to my list of “who am I?”
Maybe I’ll just ask other people who I am and compile the list, throw out all the negative crap and turn myself into a saint. Not really the point, though.
I am someone who works to help make the world a better place.
Nice line if I’m in a beauty pageant, otherwise it sounds a little too arrogant if I’m not on stage in a swimsuit or evening dress.
I am a person who tries to be thoughtful in the world.
I am an athlete. Or was one. Still living large in my mind, although the actual skills are a little rusty. I do, however, love competition. I love playing hard and I hate losing. I’m a good loser, except when it comes to presidential elections.
I am easily excitable. Some people describe me as high strung- I am to some degree but I can also be very Zen about some things. It’s more that I get excited about many different things very easily. I sense someone’s excitement about something and dive in- me too!
Which is why I have to do this exercise. I’m diving in everywhere.
I am passionate. Yes, this is different than being excitable or high strung. It comes from deep inside. My passion cannot always be controlled. I do not think clearly when I am passionate about something- I am coming from my heart and my rage. I believe my best writing comes from this place.
I am very perceptive- that’s the nice word for it. I’m also very judgmental. I can be wicked at times with what I can see. I have great instincts when it comes to people- it comes from learning how to read an alcoholic parent’s mood. I see every movement, every gesture a person makes, not because I’m trying to but because I’ve done it so long I don’t know how not to do it.
What is the point of knowing all of who I am? In the last year, I’ve learned more about myself than sometimes I can stand to know. It makes it hard to breathe. Maybe that’s why I’m so silly about these kinds of exercises. It cuts too close to the core.
While I was trying to finish my list, Jake came running in.
MOM!
What?
Want to see my super hero suit?
Sure.
He showed me a beautiful drawing of his suit. His eyes were bright. He loves this stuff.
See? It has claws out of my hands, cleats to grip the ground and my suit lets me fly and my bat turns into toxic stuff…
Maybe I should create a super hero suit instead of trying to figure out who I am. Wings to fly, a wand to whisk away all inequality and a truth lasso to get Bush to admit he’s going to invade Iran before he leaves the Presidency.
It would be a lot easier than doing this exercise.
I am a mother of three boys. I am a lesbian. I am a writer. I am someone who cares deeply about equality. I love art- weird, funky, off the wall art. I mean, I can appreciate Monet but give me Motherwell any day of the week.
Oh god, that all sounds so hokey. I’m working on an assignment to try and pull all the dangling strings in my life together. I’m not good at these kind of deeply reflective writing assignments. I want to be irreverent, goof off and make everyone laugh. I was too shy as a kid to be the class clown but the inner clown in me was always there, putting together words to frame any situation into something funny.
My sister once said to me she could have seen me go on tour as a stand up comedian.
Hello? I’m shy, I always responded.
She never quite understood that. I was always talking in front of this group or that group, doing a presentation here, traveling for business there. I’ll post the most intimate details of my life in my blog without a second thought.
But I’m shy.
Okay, so I’ll add shy to my list of “who am I?”
Maybe I’ll just ask other people who I am and compile the list, throw out all the negative crap and turn myself into a saint. Not really the point, though.
I am someone who works to help make the world a better place.
Nice line if I’m in a beauty pageant, otherwise it sounds a little too arrogant if I’m not on stage in a swimsuit or evening dress.
I am a person who tries to be thoughtful in the world.
I am an athlete. Or was one. Still living large in my mind, although the actual skills are a little rusty. I do, however, love competition. I love playing hard and I hate losing. I’m a good loser, except when it comes to presidential elections.
I am easily excitable. Some people describe me as high strung- I am to some degree but I can also be very Zen about some things. It’s more that I get excited about many different things very easily. I sense someone’s excitement about something and dive in- me too!
Which is why I have to do this exercise. I’m diving in everywhere.
I am passionate. Yes, this is different than being excitable or high strung. It comes from deep inside. My passion cannot always be controlled. I do not think clearly when I am passionate about something- I am coming from my heart and my rage. I believe my best writing comes from this place.
I am very perceptive- that’s the nice word for it. I’m also very judgmental. I can be wicked at times with what I can see. I have great instincts when it comes to people- it comes from learning how to read an alcoholic parent’s mood. I see every movement, every gesture a person makes, not because I’m trying to but because I’ve done it so long I don’t know how not to do it.
What is the point of knowing all of who I am? In the last year, I’ve learned more about myself than sometimes I can stand to know. It makes it hard to breathe. Maybe that’s why I’m so silly about these kinds of exercises. It cuts too close to the core.
While I was trying to finish my list, Jake came running in.
MOM!
What?
Want to see my super hero suit?
Sure.
He showed me a beautiful drawing of his suit. His eyes were bright. He loves this stuff.
See? It has claws out of my hands, cleats to grip the ground and my suit lets me fly and my bat turns into toxic stuff…
Maybe I should create a super hero suit instead of trying to figure out who I am. Wings to fly, a wand to whisk away all inequality and a truth lasso to get Bush to admit he’s going to invade Iran before he leaves the Presidency.
It would be a lot easier than doing this exercise.
posted by Sara at 6:37 PM
3 Comments:
As my best friend and I say frequently to one another, "It ain't judging if it's true!" (Said with our biggest possible southern drawl.)
I admire the attempt to define yourself. I don't know if I could do it...but it's definitely something worth trying. Kudos to you for the attempt.
I do understand now, because I have always said that I'm shy too, when I am always the center of attention. Never made sense to me. People laugh when I tell them I'm shy.
It's because we can't see what they see and they can't understand what we are feeling.
I think now that I am not shy, but just very insecure, no self esteem.
You and I both suffer from not knowing our strength, realizing our self worth
I am in awe of you everyday when I read this blog and so jealous of your wonderful life, and it all comes from your greatness. It all comes from qualities you don't even realize you have.
Marianne Williamson wrote these words, and they reminded me of you when I first read them.
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadeaquate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
Your playinng small, doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't fee insecure around you.
It's not just in some of us: it is in everyone, and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
To me, you are a super hero--no costume needed.
cathy, I am still digesting what you said.
thank you.
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