A journey
As a child, I watched people. I watched and studied their personas; how during Monday through Fridays from 8-5 they had a certain look, a voice, a style, a color, and an agenda; and after work and on the weekends I watched how they reinvented. I watched how others never varied anything, not one thing about their persona. They wore blue all day long, and at dusk, they wore a darker shade of blue, and then more of the same on the weekends. They responded to every question with the same response, and although I saw something different just behind their eyes, they never took a moment to see themselves.
Then there are the ones who were frenzied in everything, no moment repeated, no pattern found, no single color, only a kaleidoscope, no words, or songs written to their beat. They did not match or conform. They were who they always meant to be, every minute of every day. Of course, there were other variations in between these three types of people, but these frenzied types were measurable, and easily recognized.
At eighteen, I set out to create my persona. It was on my to-do list at sixteen but I had to wait until I was out from under Marshall Law to experiment.
I was READY! I had to be something, to get somewhere, where I wasn't sure, and the what or who I might become was even more of a mystery to me. Still I had a plan. I began my quest for those precious little pieces that would make me whole. My journey took me to places not so far from my door, but it also all saw me travel to places so far I had to take planes, boats, camels, and canoes. In some places, I had to hunker down so I could lay out all my pieces. The journey was shaping my image of my 'persona', but it was also creating conflicts. I had to leave wherever I was because life, my life, wasn't waiting for me, it moved on and I had to pack up to keep up.
I studied my pieces. Too often, I had to rearrange my precious pieces to make them fit into the mold I had selected for myself. It was like putting together a ten thousand-word puzzle. The edges I finished in a snap. It was everything, just everything I wanted to be, and what I wanted others in the world around me to see in me too. I held firmly to my ideal, but the journey became more and more exhausting. The conforming, and moving around was less like a journey, and more like a stint in Changi Prison.
When it came to the middle section of this puzzle of me-my inner core-I struggled. Like the puzzle, some pieces looked a good fit but did not quite fit into place. Others, I jammed and trimmed. Regardless of what I did, no amount of alteration worked. The piece I pounded into place only popped out like a rubber band. I collapsed on my bed and cried until there were no more tears.
I breathed my last breath, this is it I thought, I've failed to find the pieces that will make me–me. I closed my eyes and let sleep take me. My box of pieces fell from my hand, and broke when it met the marble floor. I had no strength to scramble down and put everything back in order.
I woke later forgetting where I was, is this after life I thought. In the moonlight, I saw the box and its contents, and a woman I had never laid eyes on in the moon's reflection. She took my breath.
It was I-the frenzied one, the one I was always meant to be. And, I was beautiful, and complete, with no missing pieces. My pieces were inside me all along.
When I am writing I explore what I know, but also what I observe in others. Although most of the feelings conveyed here are original, the metaphorical road travelled reflects the journey anyone might travel to find themselves.
Did you encounter any surprises on your journey?
{ 22 comments… read them below or add one }
The only real surprise was that I was right about what ws right for my life since I was ten. Ther's a lot to be said for going with your gut because if I had, I would most likely be a success now! Good thought provoking post!
Samantha-you just made the case for staying true to your own heart. Why do we ever doubt ourselves?
When I was growing up I was very outgoing. I didn't care what others thought. I was just my own wacky self. I grew out of that though–around high school. Then I struggled to find myself for years. I lost my self-confidence and tried to be who I thought I should be at that age. Finally, I got back to just being me and not who I thought I was supposed to be. I am who I am. And honestly, I'm okay with that.
Kelly-I believe we all go through some phase of identity theft. I believe it is part of growing up. Most of us figure it out but then some spend their entire life looking or trying to be something they were never meant to be. I am glad you settled on you. I kind of like you just the way you are, and we've never met in person.
The biggest surprise is how youthful mistakes gave me knowledge and wisdom I wouldn't have gotten otherwise. I didn't understand this until I grew older and had stepchildren, but this knowledge allowed me to remove layers of shame and embarrassment. Looking back now, I wouldn't change a thing.
Camels and canoes. Canoes and camels. To this I say: There is only one Brenda.
The way my life has turned out is a shocker. I'm good with that.
June, I hope this is a good thing, me being me. I think (and we've only just met) you should be good with how your turned out. Good things are a'happening woman.
I think you in your post and Samantha in her comment have nailed it. The pieced of the puzzle are already there. After all that searching, I'm finding out that I am what I always wanted to be but thought I couldn't be.
Adriene-You and me both, woman. I figure at this point I am going to do it anyway. I've paid my dues, and have slipped nicely into this skin I am wearing.
—Brenda,
You write with great imagery & depth.
—I feel as if we are continually reinventing ourselves by our experiences, the people we meet, what we read, Etc…..
For example, I am not the same person I was before Kay's murder. My identity has changed. I even write differently. I think differently.
We are continually evolving. We. Will. Never. Be. Finished.
NEver.
For me, The pieces will never be complete & glued back together again until death.
Love to you, Dear Dear Brenda.
Sometimes we have to travel far to see what was always there, we are rewarded with perspective.
Gorgeously written post and awesome photo.
That kind of put me on edge! It must have hit a nerve. Yes, I think we always know who we are when young, then life's experiences and interactions with others, make us question ourselves. Or think we are somehow "wrong." I was always an emotional, sensitive but outgoing child. The outgoing part was rewarded. The emotional, sensitive side was not. So I got the message that part wasn't ok and I spent most of my adulthood questioning my gut responses to thing. Not until some good therapy and the love of someone who thinks I am perfect just the way I am, was I able to accept myself. Still working on trusting my gut though!
Lots and lots of them Brenda! It took me a long time to 'find' myself also, to be truly comfortable in my own skin. Now that I am, I am very thankful. The world is changing so quickly and I find people are easily swayed this way and that. To know who you are is extremely important. Thanks for sharing!
The closest I have ever come to finding the me who is me was last year. It took a tragedy like my son's stroke to get me there, but I finally saw things a little differently. Same holds true today, though I don't feel I've found exactly who I'm supposed to be. It takes time. They don't call it wisdom for nothing, and it doesn't come early. Good luck on your journey. Writing is one way to get where we're meant to be.
I wish I had been as soul-searching in youth as you, Brenda. As a young girl I rarely questioned that which did not seem obvious. Sadly, I can honestly say my thoughts ran as deep as a pock mark. It was only through trial and MANY errors that I stopped allowing life to shake me like a dog with a chew toy. I lost the naive child and became the knowing woman. I will never stop learning or transitioning into that woman but at least I am determined to take hold of my dreams and destiny, and live with purpose. As always, great post, Brenda.
Annie-even your comments are strong and thoughtful. I can't tell you my way is any better than the path your followed. I sometimes wish I just lived and didn't look for the meaning in life. It's a bitch sometimes. I do have moments of envy when I see others who live without consideration, but then I think I wouldn't be me. Thus the rub. Thank as always for visiting and your words.
I think I'm in one of the surprises now, and I'm finally trying to get back to the real me. I've known what I wanted to be for a long time, but kept taking detour after detour. Many of those detours are ones I'm glad I took, though, so I can't complain. I do think I would have reached my big goals earlier without them, but that I've been enriched by having had them.
Hey Shannon-Detours are sometimes needed and become a part of who we are and end up becoming, which you have concluded. I wonder sometimes if we can just skip them, but it doesn't see to work that way. Damn!
Brenda, I love your post. I remember the 'me' of 18, and she was so authentic in so many ways. But she wasn't a conformist, and I had to figure out how to push her back down just enough to do the other things I wanted to do in the world. It took awhile, and now I think writing is helping me to let her out a bit again. Thank you.
Thanks, MW! I see you changing with each post. There is a certain freedom in expression with words Now that you have let her out (that girl you buried) she is not going to go into hiding again
Brenda, I have reinvented myself more times than I can count. I was a popular, mean girl in high school, a naive and trusting first wife, a kick ass divorcee, an untrusting but willing to try anything once back on the dating scene woman, and a devout, praying to God every minute of the day mother and daughter. Life is not easy. I think that’s the reason we keep metamorphosing into different personas; different colors. I will admit that there are days when I’m the woman who goes through five different shades of blue in one day, and other days when I’m the frenzied individual wearing more hats than anyone should have to wear. That said, at the end of the day, when we look in the mirror, and see past the fatigue, the wrinkles and the dehydrated skin, we’re able to see the strength and tenacity that keeps us in constant evolution. And we sigh in relief. Content that we are who we are. Great post, sister.
Bella-I have a hard time seeing you as mean. I do. The other personas I could see you reacting to a set of circumstances, as we all do when pressed into a corner. Life is a bitch, the most we can do is keep our hearts open to the possibility, even when we don't want to give a damn. I share the hat wearing job wiht you.. and oh, woman, sometimes (like know) I am dead tired and behind, behind, behind. Oh well, tomorrow will float by soon enough and I'll give it another go. Who knows I might even manage to glue my eyelashes on straight. Great comment, Miss Bella.