Eden's Meme: Who Am I?

I have missed Eden's call, aka Fresh Horses Brigade. In reality, she is politely inviting others to join her on a meme.  In my mind, however, it's a challenge to see how far I can push myself.  Eden charges life...like one of those medieval jousters galloping while taunting mercilessly, "Come at me, bro!" She's ballsy like that, while I am more whispering, "Please go away," while hiding behind a steel door. 


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?