At some point in our lives, maybe at several points, we all stop and ask ourselves, "Who am I?" "What defines me?" If someone were to write about you what would they say? Would it be the same thing you would write about yourself? What legacy will I, will you leave behind?
Sadly, most of us contemplate this after something challenging or traumatic has occurred in our lives. Is this because, when we are at our lowest, we need answers from the universe the most? How often do we stop and ask these questions when everything seems to be going right in our lives?
For me, I contemplate these things all the time. But then my life could be described as a bad Mexican Soap Opera. (Yes, there is such a thing as a good Mexican Soap Opera, I think.) If I were to sit down and tell you the story of my life, most would not believe it. Why? Because most people go through life and experience one or two tragic or challenging situations. For me, that seems to be at least a yearly occurrence.
Oddly, people who know me describe me as sweet, caring, sunny, always finding the silver lining, loyal, trustworthy, always there for them, kind, patient, idealistic, creative, independent, confident, supportive, nurturing, hard-working, super intelligent, ethical, organized and the two I get the most, positive and strong. (These are from letters and references written about me by others.) So is this what defines me? How other people see me. Or am I defined by how I see myself. Because while I am strong and confident and hard-working and caring, I do would not describe myself in such glowing terms. To me, I am just average. Trying to survive what the world throws at me and give something back.
Am I defined by the triumphs and traumas I have experienced? Some psychologist, behaviorist they may tell you, yes; we are defined by what happens to us in life. That is why a child who is molested will grow up to be a molester. A child not nurtured enough can become a killer or an abuser as an adult. Someone who lives a life of privilege will go on to be generous. Someone deeply loved and nurtured will grow up to be that way. You know what I say to that and those rationals, when I hear them in the news, BULLSHIT. You know why, because there are many who suffer and yet they do not turn on their fellow man. There are just as many who are given the world and yet they remain cold and selfish.
Right or wrong, good or bad, we have free will. WE make our choices. Sometimes we choose wrong, sometimes we choose right. But then one persons right may be anothers wrong, so it's all subjective. When I was dabbling in the online dating scene (very scary for the most part), it always amused me when I came across men's profiles that said "Must be drama free". Really? Seriously? What cave did they just crawl out. Everyone has drama in their lives. EVERYONE. No one is immune. No one gets a free ride on the no drama lifestyle train. That being said, I do know what they mean by that, they just don't know how to phrase it correctly. What they want, what we all want is to be around people who know how to handle drama. It's not the amount of baggage you have, it's how you carry it!
So back to the question. what defines me? I don't have the answer. I am the sum of the things I have learned and lived through; the things I have experienced in life. But how I choose to handle them, what I choose to put out in the world, that is just as much a definer as what I have endured.
By everything I have endured in my life, survived, I should be a very angry, bitter and negative person. I should be vengeful and filled with hate for those who have used and abused me. Those who have made me suffer for their own gain or simply the thrill of knowing they could. Oh, I have my moments and sometimes they are overwhelming. But it is my choice whether I give in to that. Whether I let myself become no better than them. Most people tell me it's because I'm a survivor, I'm so strong. Guess what, the majority of the time, I don't feel strong. Hell, I don't want to be strong sometimes. There are even times when a person tells me how much they admire my strength, that I just want to smack them. Really, I do. I restrain that urge, because I know they mean well. I know they see the choices I make- the choice to forgive, to turn the other cheek, to even help those who have hurt me.
I choose to focus on the positives in life. I choose to see the good in people, even those that don't really have any good in them (yes, there is evil in the world and people who are just bad. I'm a positive person, not naive). I choose to forgive those that trespass against me. I choose to get up and face the day, each morning, no matter how hard that is sometimes. I choose to keep believing that there is hope and meaning in this world. I choose to keep putting myself out there, no matter how many times people and life try to tear me apart. I choose to be this person, because no matter how hard it gets or how much of a struggle life becomes, I am strong and I am a survivor. I will choose the person I am to be. I will stand up and be a fighter because that is who I want to be. I don't know what the universe(insert your Deity of choice) wants from me, what my purpose is in this lifetime. But I know I have a purpose. I like to hope that my purpose is to make a difference in someone else's life. If by going through all the things I have endured, if one person can look at me and say, "she did it. I can do this too!"; then it's all been worth it. If I can inspire one person to fight another day; to keep striving for something better, then my life has meant something.
So maybe, just maybe, that is a small part of what defines me. Honestly, I'd like to be defined as a little more than that too, but well, my life's not over yet, so we'll see.
Some of you will read this, and say, "what does she know?" More than you can imagine, I know what it's like to have been sexually molested as a child, what it's like to be held at gun point (more than once), what it's like to be raped, what it's like to be homeless, to be jobless, What it's like to literally lose everything (more than once), what it's like to be in an abusive marriage, what it's like to have a tumor and not know whether it's cancer or not, what it's like to have a debilitating disease for which there is no cure and really no treatment. I know what it's like to be attacked and persecuted by bigots and racists, what it's like to be betrayed and taken advantage of. I know what it's like to have the person you love ripped away without a moments notice or warning. I know what it's like to hold a small animal in my arms as it passes from this life after fighting so hard to live. I know what it's like to take care of a child who has been through more horrors than I can even imagine and help them grow into a beautiful adult. I know what it's like to see greed and the love of money tear a family apart, I know what it's like to sit by someones side, some one who lived a noble and vibrant life, become a shell in a body that outlives their mind. And I know what it's like to make the wrong choices, sometimes more often than I want to admit.
These are just a few of the things I have and am surviving. But you know what, I also know what it's like to be loved by strangers, to have parent's that taught me values and have always loved me no matter what, what's it's like to live a life of privilege, what it's like to save a life, what it's like to lift someone else up out of despair and what it's like to really live, not just exist. This list may seem shorter, but it eclipses all the bad, all the negative.
I have been meaning to write this post for several weeks now, but have been procrastinating. When I woke up this morning, I was down. I was facing one more rejection, one more reminder of things that had recently been done to me by self centered people whom I made the bad choice of believing in. It was hard to fight back the tears. All I could think of is, "why do I bother? What's the use. I'm so tired of trying and fighting to keep going." I wanted to just go back to sleep and forget the world existed, but these two little black fur balls were determined to get some love and started a purrfest next to me. And then, when I came out of my room, happy panting faces greeted me, patiently waiting for me to come down the hall so they could slobber (their version of good morning kisses) on me. And my mom was there saying, "Let's get out of the house." So I took a shower and got dressed and began going through the motions. We went out to eat, something we can't afford to do often and she patiently listened to me rant about the anger I feel at trusting and believing in people who only cared about themselves and how once again, I had lost the majority of my worldly possessions when these people thrive and continue to use others, never getting the karma they deserve. And then of course I got down and mad at myself, because I don't want to be this person. I don't like being angry and negative and I know it hurts her because she, like all wonderful mom's, wants to make it right for me. So after lunch, we came home, and I came back to my little room, which is my sanctuary now. I booted up the computer to check emails and do more job hunting. But then I decided that I needed to write this post. Some of my readers are probably wishing I had refrained since it is longer than usual. :) And in the process of writing this, it helped me remember how blessed I really am and how much, even I need to remember to stay focused on the positive.
So what does this say about who I am and what defines me? I am defined by the million little moments that make up my life and I have to stay vigilant to make them mean something.
Figure out who you are or maybe just who you want to be. Choose what defines you and don't wait until life throws you the tragedy curve ball to decide what that definition will be. But above all us, we are all survivors, so never give up the fight!
