identity crisis

Had an interesting discussion in my women's group today, and my mind has been chewing on it ever since.

Who am I? What defines my identity?

Up until pretty recently, I knew exactly who I was. I defined myself within stable parameters: I was tall with long hair. I was a devoted mother. I was a lifelong learner. I was there for my friends. Yadda yadda yadda. I knew where I stood and what I stood for. I was predictable to myself. I was consistent.

But lately, for some mysterious reason, those walls have come down, and I never know for sure what I might do or say next. The long hair is gone, and I love that. One of my kids is gone and the other has one foot out the door, and it feels perfect. I still love learning, but I also love doing nothing, and I never know which one I'll prefer on any given day.

I am still usually there for my friends, unless I don't feel like it. Some days, when I am writing or hiking or reading a good book, I let my calls go to voice mail. I never used to do that before. I always answered. What if someone needed me?

At first it was sort of distressing, this identity crisis thing, but now I am really enjoying it. I feel free to change my mind. Free to honor my impulses in the moment. Free to make plans that might not happen. Free to break my own rules. Free from needing to be consistent.

Truth is, I don't really care who I am. And, to be uber-frank, I don't care all that much anymore who you think I am, either! Being someone seems highly overrated, and only gets in the way of living in the moment.

How ironic that the boundaries that used to define my identity were also a prison! I like life much better here on the outside.