Some days I’m not sure who I am.
Well, I KNOW who I am, obviously, but who am I supposed to be? I KNOW I’m a good person. I’m loyal, dependable, hard-working, trustworthy, loving, helpful, caring, generous, (humble) :), passionate, compassionate, inquisitive. I try to be funny, but mostly I’m not really. I get hangry, I’m sensitive, and I’m not perfect. I’m a woman, an artist, a singer, an office manager, a divorcee, a wanna-be entrepreneur, a very amateur photographer and a crafter. I’m a girlfriend, a (step)mother, a friend, a sister, a daughter, an aunt and a cousin. I’m a fur-baby mom, a horrible garden grower, a great co-pilot and I’m pretty good at following my senses. I love my boyfriend, my family, my (step)kids, my animals, my friends and a lot of what I do. I try and do my best, give my best, in everything I do. I don’t always succeed.
So, who am I? I’m a success. And, I’m a failure. But that’s how we learn, through our failures.
I don’t love everything I do. But, who does?
Are there things I’d like to change about who I am? Yes. And I’m working on those things. Every. Day. Of. My. Life. Because I’m also controlling and that is a destructive quality. I’m learning to let go. To let go of control. Let go of my fears. Let go of past hurts. To let go of things that are beyond my control or don’t need to be controlled. I’ll live if I’m not in control. I’ll even be happier and more at peace I’m sure. Because then I won’t be a worry-wart, which I also am.
Am I afraid of death? For me, not really. But I am afraid to lose the people I love. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve had it happen. It’s irreversible. You don’t get another chance. For anything. So, I say I love you when I MEAN it, and never if I don’t. I say it when I come home and I say it when I leave home. I say it when I go to sleep, and I say it when I wake up. Even if it’s not heard by anyone but me sometimes.
I’m a work in progress. This life doesn’t come with an instruction manual. I try every day of my life to be the BEST person I can be. Not only for myself, but more importantly, for those around me. THEY deserve my best. They don’t deserve to pay for my past. They don’t deserve to receive the ickyness I sometimes feel when I fall into a funk. Yes, they love me, and they support me, but they don’t deserve it nonetheless.
Every day I wake up and I’m thankful for my life. I’m thankful for the love I’ve found and I’m grateful that I get to have all I get to have.
So who am I? I guess I’m all of these things and even more, because I’m not done living yet. I’m only 45 years into this crazy life!