What Am I?

What a silly question. Are you writing this to test me, to see what I’ll say? Unless you are a bot, in which case, kindly get off this page; you’re human. Whether you’re a decent one, well, your question doesn’t give me much information to go off. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt that you wrote this quote in earnest. You’re going through something, something is happening around you, or you’re having an existential crisis and questioning everything, including this. Here’s the quick and dirty: You’re messy.

People are complicated, with more layers than an onion. Trying to dig into them, even into ourselves, is exhaustive work that leaves us throwing our arms up because after cross-examining something, you realize you’ve missed something or something you figured out before is no longer true. Then they bleed into each other, a complete blur, causing one to squint. So, you’re messy. Very, very messy.

You might be a control freak in which you’re shit out of luck. There are too many things you can’t control, including things about yourself. I can’t tell you what you look like; just that you’re probably unhappy with some part of it or all the parts, but somewhere, someone is going to find you so damn sexy that you’d fall right over in shock. With that, you are shining beauty, with plenty of ugly here and there. Do you work too hard or not at all? Do you go to school, or don’t but want to, or don’t want to, believing life is school (no arguments here)? You’re successful but full of failures. You’re never alone, even if you feel like it, because there is too much going on inside of you. Focus on that, and you’ll always be busy. Do you see how messy you already are?

Let me tell you a story, the cliff notes version. When I was in my twenties, my life was upended in every single way. The loss I felt in every aspect of my life, all those scales you’re supposed to balance, was overwhelming. I knew things would never be the same, and they wouldn’t be. They’re not, and that’s how it will be forever, and it’s probably for the best.

I worked hard and played hard. Even the downs had pleasure points, and when things were up, I felt unstoppable. I was okay; I had friends and family. I didn’t worry about hospitals or goodbyes. Suddenly, that all flipped, and I had no idea what to do with it. There were no highs; there seemed only to be lows and losses, one after the other, and many goodbyes all around, and one of them was me.

However, the life I have now is incredible. I love what I do, but I’m doing it differently. Originally, I planned to be a college creative writing professor. Instead, I’m a book editor and writing coach for students and authors. My second passion was to be a guidance counselor or therapist. Now, I’m a life coach, dealing with any aspect of life while helping students get into the colleges of their dreams as a side gig.

I never needed to give up my passions; I needed to know how to pivot. Having a partner when I was anti-looking, a house – good God, and the loving circle I do, I never would have guessed because I am a bit wiley, probably too much for many’s tastes. I’m still that person, too, but now I have found a deep appreciation for roots. Had you told the person I used to be, pre-life loss palooza, who I am today, I’d have laughed hysterically. Who’s laughing now?

I think you need to lose yourself to find yourself. The person I was is not the person I am today. Yes, parts of us remain. Those core traits, even beliefs at times, stay. Otherwise, that’s what’s called evolution. You don’t grow so much as transform. When you’re figuring crap out, that typically means you’ve shed one skin but haven’t found the other yet. I tend to gravitate towards the lost because I remember how it felt and how scary it felt. It stays with me, and I keep it close as a reminder in case I need to transform again in the future. Things are always changing, and the only real control we have, and we always have it, is how we react to whatever is thrown at us.

You’ve asked the wrong question, my dear. My opening two lines were me trying to be sassy, but they aren’t very useful because you asked me what you are when you should have asked me who you are. I don’t know who you are. If you don’t, that’s okay. It’s better to be there than stuck in the previous version or skin you wore. That’s clinging; you’re stumbling. Rather than holding on tightly to what was, you’re making yourself, messy and as unsteady as you are, forward. That’s who you are. That’s a good place to be and a sign that you can handle whatever “you” you stumble into.

What you are is human. Who you are is up to you.

I’m toasting that person.

Love, M