Writing Assignment 1: Who am I?
"Who am I?" is a question that people have probably asked since the beginning of man. There are many ways in which a person can go about defining who they are and once they think they have come to a conclusion, they soon become unsure, and spend their lives trying to figure it out. Others have attempted to answer this question and soon give up and make the decision not to ponder on it anymore. There are those that come up with a definition of who they are and can recite it on a moment's notice and stick with this definition for a lifetime. After reading this, you may put me in one of the categories I have listed, or perhaps you may find the opinion of yourself changing. Either way a conscious or unconscious decision is made, for we are only human…right?
I am called Krystina. To the government I am but a series of numbers separated by a couple of dashes. To some, I am what I do… a poet, an artist, a writer, a photographer, a painter, a crafter, and a student. To others I am but a title… a daughter, sister, cousin, girlfriend, best friend, friend, acquaintance, a Christian, or bitch. To science, I am a complex organism with a unique pattern of DNA that identifies me, a nervous system, and a bunch of elements put together, a human, or a homo sapien. To God, I am His creation, His child.
I have been called every 'bad word' and stupid, fat, ugly, a freak, an idiot, a loser. I have been loved, hated, envied, praised, forgiven, forgotten, enlightened, enriched, wrong, right, kind, cruel, and honest. I have been used, betrayed, beaten, thrown down, picked up, left behind, invited, misdiagnosed, and diagnosed…
I live in a house with my boyfriend, have two dogs, a cat that I saved, have no job, but at least I go to school full time. I have a wonderful, loving, supportive family, and all the same can be said for my boyfriend and my friends. I was bullied in High School because I was 'different'. I dressed different, talked different, thought and acted different. They bullied me until I fought back. Older people usually like me (usually, there are exceptions); most people around my age do not understand me. People either like/love my brutal honesty or call they me a bitch. They either enjoy my social awkwardness and the fact that I am unafraid to say what is on my mind, even if it is inappropriate, or they do not enjoy me at all. What I say may be cruel at times, but it is only my opinion, people can listen or not, it is merely my being honest.
I grew up knowing that I was the black sheep, but I refused to change who I am to fit in with what society defines as normal. Many people in history were admired for standing up or sticking out, I am not one of them. When asked how I am doing I know that it is the social norm to reply "good", "fine", "great", followed by "how are you?" However, I admit that I do not understand why this is the social norm. I feel that the social norm is to put on a mask and lie to the world; you can only be honest with those close to you, but not all the time. I wonder why people ask "how are you?" if they are not truly interested in the honest answer: "It took an hour to start my car, people were cutting me off and driving me nuts! I didn't get enough sleep or enough time for my cup of tea this morning. I am having a horrible f**king day!" In fact, honest people that would reply in such a way would scare people off and "weird them out".
People spend their lives "keeping secrets" (lying by omission) and giving half-truths, or bold faced lies. Why should "normal" be any different than that? After all, normal is what is socially accepted and widely done.
Some say I am pessimistic, I view it as realistic. Life would be so much simpler if people just spat out the type of person they act as on the first date or the first time hanging out so that we could decide whether we truly like them or not. Instead, social norms say that we have to waste our time and let people know only a little bit at a time until they are comfortable enough with us that we may tell them everything, but not truly everything, because who is, ever, completely honest?
The world will continue to define me as a series of job titles, relationship titles, my name, my social security number, something of science, a certain religion or my beliefs, a list of adjectives good and bad, a noun, pronoun, a memory and somebody who should be remembered or somebody to be forgotten. No matter what the world defines me as, I am not always going to agree with their perception.
I do believe that we are not defined by the list above but what we do in our short time here on Earth. I feel that 'good person' and 'bad person' carry meaning only in our minds, it is not what other people think of us, but what we think of ourselves and what God thinks of us. Our lives are a series of choices that we make that are influenced, not only by our mind, but by others, the world around us, our beliefs, values, and our moral fabric…the individual fibers in that fabric being delicate, but depending on the person and their morals as a whole it can be strong or weak. I know that a single individual has the power to influence others… not only through words, but even a feeling, the energy generated from a feeling, can be so strong, negatively or positively, that others can pick up on it and feel that way themselves.
I cannot tell you who I am. I can only tell you what others think of me, how others think of me, what my titles and qualifications are, my abilities, my environment, my beliefs, values, and morals, and what I think of myself at this very moment. What I think of myself stays the same in some areas and changes in others and what I feel influences what and how I think. I believe that no person can pinpoint exactly who they are because with all of the influences in life, that changes. All I can say is that before I die, I hope I have a moment to reflect on my life so that I can look back on it collectively and be honest with myself as I take my last breath and say "I was a good person". In that moment it will not matter what anybody else thought of me, or how they thought of me, it will only matter what I and God thought of me.
