Who Am I?

I used to love writing my blog. I still do, but I’ve settled so much deeper into myself and sometimes it’s harder to share now. There are truths I want to share – in a way. But some truths are hard to reveal to friends. It’s like telling them you’ve been lying to them for years. It’s not that I don’t want you to know something about me, it’s that I don’t want to change your perception of me. You are my friend because of who you think I am. If I am someone else…..what happens to us?

Of course, if they are truly friends, they love us just the same – or maybe a little bit different – but not less. As much as we try to hide bits of ourselves that we think are unpleasant, true friends see our core. It is what lies beneath that has bonded our relationship. And dark corners brought into the light will not change that.

But, sometimes you want a chance to be seen without a mask. From the very beginning you want to be who you are – completely and wholly. Sometimes you don’t want to have to reveal things bit by bit and watch their face change as they try to accept this new version of you. How lovely it would be to stand in front of someone as Me 1.0 – the version with the faults, and bugs, and wonky coding.

We talk about people carrying the past around like baggage. Sometimes I just want to pile all my baggage on the bed, open it up in front of someone, and say “This is it. This is my life – the ugly parts, the scary parts, the unfinished and meaningless parts. This is the bag I will never open again. This is my favorite one that I never want to leave behind. This one stays with me even when I try to discard it and these are all the things I overstuff them with.”

Sometimes I don’t want to confess to you what I have hidden for years. Sometimes I want to start with everything in plain sight right from the beginning. I have wounds from which I have not healed. I have loves whom I have not released. I have dreams I have not let grow. I have fears that make no sense. These are all part of me – the me without a mask. What would it be like to feel that kind of freedom – to not hold back the complicated or unpleasant or too excited bits of yourself?

I don’t need you to like this version of me. She doesn’t survive or wither on anyone else’s say-so. She just is. But she is everything that is precious to me, and that means not everyone deserves to know her. So the masks stay, the baggage is still hidden, the light is not shone in the dark corners. Someday perhaps I will find that person with whom I can unpack. We will share our baggage like stories of days gone by – that’s all they are. Then we will take turns soothing well-worn callouses from carrying things with us and sigh at the weightlessness we’ve gifted to each other.