Who Am I?

Another busy day...but not bad. I did all my running around and feel as though I accomplished something. My adventure at the post office went well. Of course I drove to town during rush hour, so I had plenty of time to think about life as I sat in senseless traffic. All of us have people in our lives who think of themselves as our friends but are more like cling-ons. You know, those folks who just won't let go. Remember when I said that I'm not a nice person? Well here's the deal. I am not the type of person who's good at shaking off barnacles. If someone feels the need to "cling on," I'll let them--to a degree. I know who my friends are and they know me. Period.

No one who's ever been a cling-on has moved into friend status with me. I am happy to be superficial with those people, and the funny thing is that those people are happy knowing me by my mask. Only the true friends want to see me for who I am. The sad thing is that no matter how much I love my friends, I can't shed the mask. Does that mean the mask is not a real facet of myself? Absolutely not. I am real at all times--just to varying degrees. If I've learned nothing else in life, it's that a lot of people are simply unable to handle the truth. Because I am fortunate enough to have people in my life who deal honestly with themselves and with me, I have the freedom to be who I am more often than not. I can't imagine having to live sequestered from even my own scant version of reality on a permanent basis.

So if I'm wearing a mask, who am I? That's the question of the decade. My first thought was to define myself by what I do--I'm a mother, friend, wife, the list goes on. But as to WHO I am...hmmm...I think of myself as being a rather morose person. Don't get me wrong, if I want to have fun, I'm the life of the party. People generally enjoy the color I bring to a conversation. Guaranteed, anyone who converses with me will share a laugh and probably learn some useless information they could have lived without knowing. That's me. I find useless trivia interesting. There I go defining myself by what I do again. What a terrible trap!

There was a time when the chasm between men and women was well-defined. Men identified themselves by their occupation while women tended toward identifying with their roles in life. Now, the divide--which used to be the size of the Grand Canyon--is more like a bridge over a trickling stream. To a large degree, I think it's good that men and women are learning to share the better attributes stereotypically associated with each gender. In my own life, though, I've noticed some of the downside to only being able to define myself by whatever my occupation is at a given time. When I don't work outside the home, my self-esteem is lower. When I'm safely ensconced in my happy little walls, I don't notice it so much. But when I have to deal with people on the outside, and I have to answer that question--so what do you do?--it trips me up a little.

When you choose to stay home with your children and you say this with pride to those inquiring minds, some understand and others give you those pitying looks as though anyone who would want to stay home had well and truly lost the plot. When you work outside the home, the risk of coming under judgement is no less. If your job is not interesting enough or doesn't pay a six-figure salary, you get the same damn pitying looks. What is up with that? Is there something wrong with working and enjoying the job--even if it is running an efficient home? Only someone who has no concern whatsoever for politically correct conventions would answer that question with a yes. But guess what, when I think of myself, regardless of how well I can conceptualize the value of any of my past or current jobs, I look for ways to rationalize what has become, in my mind, a source of personal failure--the lack of an upward moving career.

That is MY hang-up, but I wonder how many people find themselves in a similar position. I know in my heart that I've only held positions I deemed honorable in one way or another. My head is what needs convincing. In the grand scheme of things, my life span has been a minute compared to the time I have left (or at least the amount of time I'm planning to have). So hopefully, sooner than later my head and heart will have a meeting of the minds. Every time I stop to question the qualifiers I use when answering the dreaded question, I'm bringing that meeting forward on my life's agenda. Right now, that's what I can do.

So in the meantime, I write and read and talk to people who are hell-bent on challenging conventions. That keeps my mind sharp and exposes me to the viewpoint of others. How many of us truly get to see ourselves through someone else's eyes? What a rare gift. I see the way people respond to me and am constantly awed because when I look at me I see a person who is desperately trying to figure everything out. People treat me as though I'm some kind of rock or a guru of sorts. If I were a rock, I'd be made of jelly and for the record, I'm a guru of nothing. All I do is live and observe--something all of us have the opportunity to do. It's a simple matter of choice.

I can choose to be anything--sanguine, happy, content, successful. I can choose to see myself as deserving of respect for the simple fact that I am a human being. I can choose to be a hero for my children, my friends, myself. Today, I choose all of the above. My attitude determines my altitude.