Tuesday, October 17, 2023
What’s it like to be me? Sometimes it’s torture. Other times, it’s like waking up in a whole different world. Sometimes it feels icky to be me. I have a weird combination of skills, quirky rituals, and desires. Why am I not an athlete, a celebrity, an impoverished beggar, or a gluttonous pig? They say you can be anything you want. I can’t be “those people.” I have to be me.
It’s quiet in me, honestly. The me that greets you with a smile would rather be left alone. It feels like I have no choice but to be me. I can change my name or my address. I would say I could change my hairdo, but I have no hair – another “thing” about me. If you could see my handwriting, you’d know it’s me. If you could hear my voice, you’d know it’s me. If you could see my crystal-blue eyes, you’d know it’s me.
I can’t hide. So I wonder, what’s it like to be you? I think of that often, slipping inside someone else’s mind/body. If I did that, would you still know it was me, but in different packaging? I wish I could be someone else. I could pretend, but you’d see right through my act. I guess it’s not exactly fair to try to tell you what it’s like to be me – it’s complicated. I can’t get away from me. I guess what I’m saying is this – when you imagine what it’s like to be me, cut me some slack. I’m trying to imagine what it’s like to be me too, and I’m struggling to put it into words. Each day I feel like a different me, yet you’ll always know who I am. How strange that you can spot me, even if I change! Maybe you have yourself summed up – congratulations. The rest of us are learning. Can you give us some room to work?