Who am I, part 2

Who am I – part 2 

Ok, so, re-discovering me. How the heck do I do that? Can someone please write to Stacy and Clinton and ask them to come do it for me? They certainly have one heck of a track record.

Here is the old me. This is what the old me would say when I ask who I am.

I’m a writer (kind of). I’m a mom (who’s struggling). I work (but my job isn’t special). I’m a wife (but kind of sucking at it). I’m no-one special.

Now I look at that, and I think “what if that was what my daughter thought of herself?” because, whether it is good or bad, she IS going to build part of her identity according to what I think of myself, for better or for worse. So no more being down on myself!

This is the identity of the new me.

I’m an author who has published an archaeology journal, as well as a fantasy fiction novel that is sold on both BarnesandNoble.com as well as Amazon.com AND is selling enough that I have covered my expenses and then some. My book is also going to be featured in a reading club of 50 teachers, has been accepted into a high school reading program where there is 1 (ONE) fantasy book selected per year by a panel of reading specialists and libraries, AND it was put into the pool to be considered for nomination for the VA Reader’s Choice Award (I will find that out next week hopefully). I will also be at an author signing this Saturday. So yes, I’m an author, a real one, and I will say that with pride.

I’m a mom and doing a pretty damn good job of it. My child is healthy, and happy, and growing and developing just like she should be. She is an extremely happy and well-adjusted toddler and I am so proud of how she is turning out to be.

I was able to have the med-free birth I always wanted (and will be proud of that. If people think that me being proud of something that was hard, was work, and yes, IT FREAKING HURT, means that I look down upon them – which I don’t – then that is their own issue and not mine), I pushed past a lot of difficulties and breastfed, and still am breastfeeding my child (and I will be proud of that too, even if other’s don’t think I should be).

I’m a full time worker who is an integral part of the education system. If it wasn’t for me, this building wouldn’t run. The computers would never get turned on, fixed, or replaced. The teachers would never be able to integrate technology into their lesson plans, and the students would not go into the world with a solid understanding of basic technology.

I’m a wife who works hard, every day, to keep her marriage afloat. I do my best to keep everyone fed, clothed, and happy. I clean my house every day and it shows (and I really want to throw a “but” in there. I will not!). I will not apologize for the fact that my house is not “showcase clean”. It is a house that is the residence to 1 dog, 1 cat, 1 chinchilla, 2 very busy adults and 1 very rambunctious toddler. It is a very well used, loved, and explored environment.

I read a wonderful quote the other day on a blog (which I cannot for the life of me remember, so if you are reading this, I’m sorry!) which says: “If you are coming to see me, then come on in. If you are coming to see my house, make an appointment”. From now, this will be my mantra. And if you do find yourself judging my house, the vacuum is in the closet, the laundry hamper in each bedroom, and the paper towels on are the kitchen counter. Knock yourself out.

Who am I?

Who am I?

Does anyone else find themselves asking themselves this question? It came to me this morning at work and I realized that I have no idea who I am. This little kernel was also planted in my head the other day when I was talking with my dad on our daily, hourly, commute to work.

We were talking about college, and how I still felt some guilt over them paying for the bulk of my degree. Now, I did not go to a huge, fancy, expensive college, AND college cost significantly less 10 (eep) years ago than it does now, but it was still a lot of money. I wouldn’t think twice about it except that, minus a 4 month stint after I graduated, I have not had a job in my degree field in the 7 (really?) years since I graduated.

See, I got a degree in Anthropology, with a concentration in Archaeology. At the time, it was the best decision I ever made. That was the lifestyle that I craved, desired, loved. To 18-year-old Kristi, the nomadic lifestyle was the only lifestyle. Living in hotels sounded exotic, traveling the world and recording the lives of humans, both living and non, immersing myself in cultures, being the lone world, OMG it was a dream come true.

And for the 4 years I was in college, I was living the dream. I had a wonderful amount of experiences, met some amazing people, and loved my life. I was able to do archaeology work at several Presidential homes, pre-historic sites, colonial era sites, and everything in between. I formed bonds with people who were just like me, and found people just like me, for (what seemed like) the first time ever.

Then I graduated and realized that I didn’t want the nomadic life anymore. I had a cat, and a boyfriend, and realized that things like health benefits and a steady paycheck were a good thing. Full-time jobs in archaeology, within commuting distance of my home, were non-existent. So I went into retail, and from retail into education, and here I am.

What was I saying? Oh yeah! Identity. So dad and I were talking about how I don’t actually use my degree, and he goes “We (he and my mom) always knew you wouldn’t use your degree after you graduated, that wasn’t the point. The point was having a degree in general, and getting into the world, and just seeing you fit in to a group of people and be so happy to belong to a group was worth every penny.”

Cue…the waterworks. Especially because that group has since dispersed. Some of us keep up on Facebook, sharing wedding announcements and baby pictures, some I haven’t spoken to since they/I graduated. The group that I felt so happy being part of…has since moved on without me.

The real reason it cues the waterworks, though, is because I no longer feel like I belong anywhere. In fact, I no longer feel like I even have an identity. Due to a variety of reasons, I started shedding everything that had made me special or unique and became this…I don’t even know how to describe it. Indescript? Unnoticable? Empty?

Well, no more! I now will consider myself to not have an identity, but consider myself to be a blank canvas where I can discover who I am now. I’m not the same person I was in high school, or even college, so simply sliding back into those identities would not work, but I have the ability to rediscover myself, and that’s exactly what I am going to do.