I have mulled over my identity many times on here in the past. It is one of those recurring themes in my subconscious. Sometime in the past few weeks, K pinged me in IM. “you write well” he said simply. No explanations or reasoning behind the statement. It struck me how much I valued his judgement. “Thanks! I said before carrying on a silly banter and closing the window.
On my way to a marathon cleaning appointment at my dentist, I wondered why it meant much that simple statement. Perhaps it was a way of validating me beyond my relationships? Or because it was something that was innate to me? Is it because I cannot brush it away saying “are you joking?”.
Accepting compliments with grace is something I have been striving for as most times I feel a fake when someone says something like that. I laugh nervously, change topics or return the compliment many fold minimising what it means to me. Why is that I confuse humility with dismissing valid statements?
Lying prone with a bright light flashing in my face and my jaw numb from eight injections, my thoughts swirled around making up for the loss of sensation in one part of my face. Each time I step out of the home, the identity crisis starts. I get caught between the roles I play and what I think I really am. To the nameless stranger who waits on me as the hygenist pokes around the innards of gums and patiently suctions away the water collecting inside, who am I? I introduce myself as EnKay and then feel pressured to qualify it with something. These days mommy of twins seems to be it. Some other days, I rely on my professional persona to come to the forefront. I wonder if someday I would actually introduce myself as a blogger and that would suffice.
A writer perhaps? Just saying.