Once upon a time, I used to look into the mirror and ask, "Who am I? Who the hell is that person I see? Do I see what others see?" Probably typical adolescent angst...or maybe I have been weird for longer than I thought. I still look in the mirror and wonder who that person is. Here is what I think...at this moment.
I have been a girlfriend and the other girl. I have been a best friend and a worst enemy. I have been the punk rocker and the normal girl.
Now I am a mother and a wife. I was a wife to someone else before, but I am doing a better job with this husband...at least I like to think so.
My children are the absolute soul of my life, but I need my space from them and they from me. We have to breathe other air sometimes so we don't suffocate each other.
I have several best friends. I have my best friends who have been around since we were in diapers; I have my best friend who knows all my skeletons and where they hang; I have my best friend who shares my love of antiques and auctions. They each and every one mean the world to me.
I hate flying because, well, just because.
I have issues with control. Like, big ones...I have to have it because I am the only one qualified to be in control (except when I'm not.)
I used to love driving by myself for hours at a time, but my anxiety keeps me close to home now.
I can love deeply and without abandon, but when I am done...I am done. I have never stopped loving anyone without reason.
I firmly believe I have angels looking over me. I've made too many damn mistakes without serious repercussions to not have.
I am obsessive about health issues. At any given time I can convince myself I have cancer or other malady. Remember that show Medical Mysteries from several years back? That is my nightmare. That, too, is all about control.
I constantly doubt myself. I question every word that comes out of my mouth.
I love the word dammit. So much so that a close friend from grade school addressed all my birthday cards to "Dammit" for most of our lifetimes.
I buy mostly black, white, and gray clothing. I try to buy colorful things with prints, but it feels like I'm wearing someone else's stuff.
I know I am complex sometimes, but mostly I am simple. I don't understand why people makes things more difficult than they are. In fairness, they probably don't understand why I react the way I do.
I love the ocean. My daddy grew up near the ocean, and he loved to take us every summer to visit there. He is a different person there...like he fits that puzzle better than he does here in the mountains. My soul is more settled there. Maybe that's my puzzle, too.
I can't pick a favorite color because I love them all. I don't get white walls and beige carpet. Right now my house is full of watery blues and pale grays and calming greens, but that is subject to change when I feel necessary. My house is both a home and palette.
I don't have one favorite song. I don't have one particular genre of music I prefer. Like the colors, I love them all. I'm just as likely to listen something classical or country as I am rap or metal. My youngest knows how to air drum and head bang, but she can also break it down JLo style. Diversity is important.
I know my words can be sharp, hurty things, so I sometimes say nothing at all. Silence doesn't mean I agree with you.
I love live music. Period. Even if it's shitty.
I have fuchsia hair right now, but it'll be a more acceptable color before school starts...only because it has to be. People judge you differently when your hair is screaming at them.
I have moved more times than I can count. I have moved 11 times in 20 years. Despite this, most of the moves have been within a 5 mile radius. I can pack a moving truck like nobody's business.
This is not a definitive picture of who I am...I know that. I didn't tell you about the time my Papaw let me break about 75 bricks brand spankin' new bricks in half even though they were to be used for a new sidewalk because I just wanted to. I didn't tell you about the night I saw a funnel cloud above our car while riding through the midnight countryside. I didn't tell you about the time my best friend hit me over the head with a metal truck because she didn't want me on her swing set. There are many contributors to who I am, some I'm not even aware of and never will be.
I might be someone totally different by the time the sun sets today...Life is funny that way.
Who are you?