I’ve always identified myself by what I do. If I’m knitting, I’m a knitter. If I’m training dogs, I’m a dog trainer. If I’m with S, I’m a girlfriend. If I’m with my family, I’m a daughter, sister, cousin, niece. Why is it that I can’t identify myself as me? I am me, and no one else is me. Just like no one else is my dad, my mother, my brothers.
As a knitter, I knit, obsess about yarn, live in my perfect knitting world where everything is amazing and done, and I do other knitterly things. I read knitting books and blogs. I puzzle out how to do that one particular thing that I can’t quite seem to figure out, and I feel accomplished when I get past a tricky spot in a pattern, or figure out how to fix an awful end-of-the-world mistake.
As a writer, I write, read, plot, and plan. Occasionally, the characters in my story take over, and that’s all I can think about. If this is the case, I write, or mumble to myself while writing on an invisible board. As a writer, I’m more than slightly crazy, I’m almost certifiable.
As a family member, I’m what ever I need to be for whoever I’m with. I could be a friend, a confidante, a partner in crime, or just plain awesome. I know when to be a tattle tale, when to keep my mouth shut, when to gossip, when to listen, and when being invisible really would be a handy trick.
As me, I’m all of these things, and more. So why is it when I’m around alone I’m me, and when I’m not I’m whatever I need to be? Why do I feel the need to identify myself as some one other than who I am? Can’t I be all of the above at the same time?
