…Identity

You meet someone at a party. Or at a bar. Or at a bookstore. Or at the park. Or at a black-tie event. What is the first thing you ask this new person? Generally, you ask “what do you do?” because, in our culture, what you “do” is considered the most important part of who you are. And, it’s the easiest and most “polite” thing to ask.

But what if you’re asked this question, and you don’t “do” anything… i.e. you’re like me and are currently unemployed? How do you respond? How do you answer? And what would you say if someone came right out and asked “Who are you?”

Then there’s the age-old question at job interviews: “Tell me about yourself.” How do you answer? (If you answer “correctly”, you talk about your previous work experience and how it relates to the position you’re interviewing for.)

So, in these instances, “identity” means “how you define yourself”.

But, then there’s identity theft, which is not really the stealing of any of those things, but instead the stealing of bits of numbers associated to you, all of which don’t really mean or say anything about you as a person, but it can be a pain in the rear anyway to deal with if they’re taken.

And we often ask ourselves who we are and why we’re here and the meaning of the universe and all of that… and turns out, other than “42”, it’s difficult to say.

I mean, I am writing this blog post, but who am I, really?

My twitter profile says I’m: “#feminist #writer #artist #editor #blogger #witty #creative • Makes things. Shoots things (with camera).”

On my Facebook page, I say: “I am a multi-disciplinary artist – I paint, draw, crochet, take photographs, and make beaded jewelry and notecards. I also write and have had poetry and short stories published, and have won numerous writing awards. My first book, A Spicy Secret, came out in December 2012. I’m also a kick-ass editor! And I’m a marketing genius, so there’s that.”

I’m also a reviewer, a beach girl, a singer (not currently singing), a one-time model (literally, two times, ever), a reader, a graphic designer, a teacher (who is not currently teaching), a safe driver, the “mom” of four varmints (and four who have gone over the rainbow bridge)…

But is all of that even enough to define me?

I’m also a friend, godmother, cousin, niece, sister, daughter, granddaughter, daughter-in-law… and the list of relationships could go on.

Am I my pain? Am I my demons? My humor? My hair?

Or simply an inspiration? The universe has demonstrated to me over and over again that my job here is to inspire, but is that it?

Or is that enough?

Clearly, whoever I am is more than the sum of my parts, more than my body, more than spirit. I guess, I think, therefore I am.

Who are you?