Questions: #22

If you don't know why 22 comes after 32, please review this post.

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #22: Why are you, you?

This is the eternal question isn't it?  There's never going to be a right or complete answer.  And if I ask other people to answer it about me, they won't have an answer anymore complete than mine is.

But there are major reasons I am who I am today --- And it's people, or groups of people, in my life.  It a select few who have encouraged me, guided me, and loved me.  There are four people or groups to mention; I hold all of them responsible for all the things that make me me.

The first is my sweet family - A collection of smart, talented humans with big hearts.  I've never, not once, worried that they aren't on my side.  We fight and fuss like families do, but there's a thick bond, bigger than mere flesh and blood, that will bind us together for eternity.  It's the joys and the sorrows, the losses and the births, the successes and not-failures but big misses we've celebrated and grieved together that makes us strong.  And its the love, the unconditional, unfaltering gratitude we have and good cheer we bestow to one another than has taught me that there are places in which I will never be alone.  If anything could influence who I am as a person, the confidence, the passion, the joy I have in life, the absolute adoration I have for the kids I'm so madly in love with even as they grow older and wiser everyday --- well, my friends, it is that tremendous family who has captivated my heart since the moment I (or they) were born.

The second is the most unbelievably wonderful friend in the universe who has been with me for 20 years.  How can someone who has loved me, unconditionally, and didn't have to, not make me who I am?  My Oldest Friend encouraged me to be all the things I am and wanted to be --- a writer, a sculpter, a crazy lost woman with dreams of restaurants or phds.  You can't imagine what my adolescent years may have been if not for the safety and warmth, the open heart and open door, of my Very Oldest Friend.  And so, here's to another 20, my Oldest Friend.

The third is most unexpected, but happens to be a young teacher with whom I shared breakfast sandwiches, boy trouble, and college fears --- The Rev.  The Rev wasn't a rev back then.  He was (and is) a quirky English buff with unruly hair and sweater vests.  Not more than 27 when I first met him, a mere 16 myself, The Rev took me under his wings and set my academic head on straight.  I should mention, of course, that he helped work through my tortured, awkward love life up, too.  Actually, I guess, he still does.  The Rev sent me straight to my Alma Matar, my first adult home at the base of that tiny mountain I adore so greatly.  At that base, I found myself secure and anchored in the skin in which I was born.  I found a brain that could think, and a confidence in my writing.  I found a passion for the classics, and for Medieval History.  I found, for the very first time, a glimpse of who I truly could be --- myself.  Just me with no pretense of anyone else.  Just me, an awkward young adult with short cropped hair and hiking boots.  Just me, a smart, dedicated student who could think, and work, and dream, and create --- all in the same week.  Just me, whoever that was, or is, or may become. For the first time, The Rev showed me the person I am isn't merely good enough, but instead, is just right.  For that, I will be eternally greatful to that brainy young man with unruly hair and sweater vests.

And the forth is, no matter how much I wish to discard him, TxB.  And get ready, my friends, but this entry has some nicer things to say.  We spent 12 years, many of them good years, together; and so, TxB can't possibly be omitted as someone who has made me who I am.  Even after two years apart, he continues to influence me.  I hear songs by artists he introduced me to, and I drink varietal coffees I never knew about until him.  I fell in love with David Foster Wallace, who is still arguably one of my favorite writers of all time.  With TxB, I found outlets to test out what it feels like to be someone else.  I tested what it felt like to be the breadwinner --- and I didn't completely mind  it. I tested what it felt like to be a drummer's girlfriend --- and sometimes I liked it.  I tested what it was like to be faithful - and not --- and I liked and didn't like a lot if facets of each of those things.  And I tested what it feels like to give up parts of myself that are unfathomable --- and I still hate that.  In the end, what I know, is that I must reconcile, and make those things I dislike(d) right.  I can't undo what was or wasn't, not between us, but I can never again agree to give up the things that mean the most to me in this world.  And so, I won't.  In spite of a tumultuous 12 years, if I am thinking of all the people who have made me who I am today, I have perhaps, the most gratitude towards TxB.  Without him, I wouldn't have any sense of what it feels like to live a life I so passionately hate.  And, these 24 months later, I think I can honestly say that without him, I wouldn't know what it really means to have someone in your life who truly loves you even when he doesn't ultimately love himself.  

Who I am, what makes me me, is a collection of these and other experiences, heartaches, joys, fears.  It's a culmination of love and loss, relationships that have long ended, and those that will never stop.  Those who were unmentioned, are by no means, less important to me.  

But those above, those people listed, have molded and shaped me into all the things I am, and all the things I never want to be.  For those people, I inadequately express my sincere gratitude and love - for it is you who have shown me all that I am.