{9} Identity.

It’s weird, the things we think define us.

WHO ARE YOU?

I’ve been thinking a lot about identity lately. We want so badly to be recognized for who we are, but who we are is so much, so complex, and so likely to shift from day to day, even from minute to minute. So we rely on these shorthand descriptors: cook, mother, queer. Think about it…when someone says, “describe yourself”, what do you say? I always seem to fall back on these kinds of words, and I don’t know about you, but they always feel sort of empty, like I’m parsing myself into easily digestible parts for someone else’s benefit.

Really, society kind of demands it.There isn’t time to fully know too many people, and, for better or worse (better, in the mind of this introverted misanthrope), technology makes it much easier to avoid the kind of contact that would demand anything more than the most cursory interactions. We need that shorthand to have some foundation for those cursory interactions, otherwise, I don’t know. Social chaos would apparently ensue.

So. Thoughts.

I’m not necessarily happy.

Shocking, right? But like…with all of the changes I’ve just gone through, still recovering from this fricken accident (even though I’m ridiculously lucky), still adjusting to this new life…it’s a lot. And like…there’s stuff I could do to feel better. I…