I have a tendency to frighten people. Not intentionally, of course. And not in the Oh-my-god-look-at-that-thing-growing-out-of-her-head sort of way, but rather in the Oh-good-god-what’s-wrong-with-her sense. You see, I’m a rather excitable person, and in my mere 5-foot-1 frame, I can easily be mistaken for a rampant dwarf. While most people would consider this flamboyancy a negative trait, I find it to be the single most enhancing aspect of my life. I don’t use the term “enhancing” loosely; I mean it in the very sense of the word. I mean that I derive more pleasure from a plastic spoon than most do from a full-length feature film. I often talk to myself in my own quirky banter, pausing only to nod hello to a friend or say “excusez-moi” to an imposing trashcan. And yes, though it earns me awkward stares and muffled giggles, it never seems to make me think twice about myself-- because that’s who I am.
So, who am I? I must be pretty safe in my own skin to be able to receive such reactions. The answer is nonexistent, largely because I really don’t know who I am quite yet, nor who I’m going to be for that matter; but this makes more sense for a 16-year-old someone than for a 40-year-old someone pushing mid-life crisis. In an age where catharsis is as close by as your nearest plastic surgeon, “finding yourself” has become a staple in everyone’s diet. But what I’ve found after years of Oprah and MTV is that we are not just made up of a conglomeration of places and people and experiences, we are made of clay: malleable and ever-mutating clay. This mutability has created some of the most brilliant minds and the most innovative people- the ones who took advantage of their constantly changing personas. I guess that’s where the acceptance should be; not of who you are, but of the truth that you might not be the same person tomorrow. And maybe that’s what makes life so exciting; that you can get to know yourself a little bit more everyday, and just when you think you know who you are, you can surprise yourself. It keeps life from getting boring- and that’s one thing I refuse to be: boring.
So I continue to walk with myself, not ignoring the varied reactions from passers-by but rather acknowledging them with a smile. I’m just getting to know myself before everything changes; it’s only a matter of time.