My Reckless Abandon

Entry One- Identity-less

Eɴᴛʀʏ Oɴᴇ- Iᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ-ʟᴇss

02.07.13

Who am I? It’s astounding that three words, three syllables can hold so much meaning, begin so much turmoil. Though, what’s even more astonishing is that I can’t answer this question. I’m not sure what really caused me to think about my identity, and just who I am in general (though it may have something to do with the fact that ever since I moved the question, “Who are you?” has seemed to appear a lot). To be completely honest, I doubt that the majority of people in this world could answer this question. Maybe it’s just me, but it bothers me a lot when I can’t say, this is who I am, this is what I stand for.

If I were asked to describe myself in one word I don’t think I ever would be able to.  Or maybe I would. Is your name your identity? Does your name literally name who you are? I don’t think so, though if it did, life would be pretty boring. All the Sally’s in the world would be the same, all the John’s would be identical… To me, my identity is a conundrum, something that I doubt I will ever solve, despite how much I want to.

Something that bothers me even more than the fact that I don’t know who I am is that I honestly don’t know who I am. I am so many different things, to so many different people. If you asked my family they would probably say hyper, loud, and sassy with a temper. My teachers would say serious, caring, and intelligent. And if you even went as far as to ask each one of my friends, the responses, I think, would vary greatly. Serena would probably say that I’m weird, a good listener, and sarcastic. Jack, Andrew, and Johan would say that I’m annoying (in the best way possible), easily embarrassed, and a good listener. Jennifer, Cassandra, and Zoey would say that I’m immature, obsessive, and hyper. But if you asked others, they would say I’m quiet, timid, and generally soft-spoken. The sad thing is that I’ve created so many identities for myself that nobody can tell who I really am. I’ve molded myself into what other people want me to be, and imitated them to the extent that I have become a new person to every person. And maybe, just maybe, who I really am is so bad, so treacherous and evil, that I’ve created an alternate me to take its place.

You’ll find that as you get to know me, I’m a lot different than you would think. I usually start out as quiet and timid and then evolve as time goes on. People attribute this to breaking out of my shell, and as much as I would like to believe that, the more plausible answer is that I don’t know how to act until I get to know you better, and can become who you are.

When I think of myself, I think of myself in polar opposites. I’m loud and quiet; it just depends on who you are. I’m shy and out-going, obsessive and moderate. So when people ask to get to know the real me, I’m not really sure how to answer. And when I’m alone? I’m everything. I’m nothing. My personality, my identity, who I am, is something that is lost in the midst of my many lies. And if you want to look at it like that, I’m not only lying to the people around me, I’m lying to myself. I’m deceiving myself. Am I that good of an actor that nobody knows what really lies within? Am I that good of an actor that even I don’t know what really lies within? Is who I think I am, really just a big game of monkey-see, monkey-do?