The question 'Who are you?' feels already outside of me. I have always known what I enjoy and what I despise; growing up, I wasn't too complicated, or at least that is what I get from my mother when she tells me about my childhood. Identity, or at least the need to define it, felt like a responsibility I was neglecting. I got sad when I read that my zodiac sign was something I didn't embody; it made me feel awful, so I tried my best to ignore all those kinds of things. It was until a teacher at school made us write on paper who we are. For the first time I asked myself the question, and what came was my name, but for the woman it wasn't enough. She told me I was what I liked, but I believed that my tastes are quite volatile. One day I love the sunlight; the next one it burns me. From that moment on, I felt like I was expected to know who I am. I started to make what I like my entire personality, and even when I had a lot of interest, it felt, at the core, shallow. I became obsessed with zodiac signs ironically. In the definition of Libra, I hid my oblivion towards myself. I became miserable, slowly. Everything felt like a performance I wasn't giving the script of. To be honest, I don't know what woke me. But one day I woke up exhausted from all of the things that supposedly define me, and I gave them up. I know who I am. I have always known, I believe. And the person I am is only relevant to me. 'Who are you?' is a voice that doesn't come from my mouth, and it is a question I shouldn't be forced to answer. The point is, we already know we are; most of the time it is quite simple. Maybe because of its simplicity, we are scared of accepting it. But it is there—the answer. Inside of us. Waiting for us to give up on the performing and to start living
(Thank you for posting this. I love reflections of identity)
Your writing style is intoxicating. One races through it and then has to go back - to savour it this time. Thank you.
The question 'Who are you?' feels already outside of me. I have always known what I enjoy and what I despise; growing up, I wasn't too complicated, or at least that is what I get from my mother when she tells me about my childhood. Identity, or at least the need to define it, felt like a responsibility I was neglecting. I got sad when I read that my zodiac sign was something I didn't embody; it made me feel awful, so I tried my best to ignore all those kinds of things. It was until a teacher at school made us write on paper who we are. For the first time I asked myself the question, and what came was my name, but for the woman it wasn't enough. She told me I was what I liked, but I believed that my tastes are quite volatile. One day I love the sunlight; the next one it burns me. From that moment on, I felt like I was expected to know who I am. I started to make what I like my entire personality, and even when I had a lot of interest, it felt, at the core, shallow. I became obsessed with zodiac signs ironically. In the definition of Libra, I hid my oblivion towards myself. I became miserable, slowly. Everything felt like a performance I wasn't giving the script of. To be honest, I don't know what woke me. But one day I woke up exhausted from all of the things that supposedly define me, and I gave them up. I know who I am. I have always known, I believe. And the person I am is only relevant to me. 'Who are you?' is a voice that doesn't come from my mouth, and it is a question I shouldn't be forced to answer. The point is, we already know we are; most of the time it is quite simple. Maybe because of its simplicity, we are scared of accepting it. But it is there—the answer. Inside of us. Waiting for us to give up on the performing and to start living
(Thank you for posting this. I love reflections of identity)