"Her"

Self

"Okay, so I'm not perfect. I'm not like anyone I've ever met. I don't think like anyone else. And I sure as hell don't move like anyone else. So who am I?" the young woman asked herself.

You could live for a thousand years, and still be no closer to an answer. You could stare in a mirror for the rest of your life, and see a thousand souls. Why does the definition of self trouble you so?

"Maybe because I don't understand myself." sighed the young woman.

'She' was incredulous. You don't understand yourself? You? Who has always been perfectly clear about what and who you believe in from the time you were a child? You? Who has taken personal risk to protect and yourself and others, placing yourself in harms way? You? Who has cut your hair, and dressed in anything you felt comfortable in, regardless of stares and redicule? You?

"I guessed I phrased that wrong. But I just don't feel that there's any one thing that defines me. I want there to be one simple word that defines me. Something great!"

That's impossible. No simple word defines you. Not 'student'. Not even Sheshet.

"But I'm too complicated. There's just too much of 'me'."

People start to have problems when they don't accept all of themselves. They try to ignore who they are, or where they came from, or where they really want to be. And they try to do little hack jobs to themselves. It starts with the outside. Maybe they just dress like everyone else, read what everyone else does, or maybe they just smile too widely. Other times it's more serious, depending on the person. Sometimes it's what you call 'drugs', or too many men or women, and sometimes no one at all.

"You're making generalizations."

Maybe. Have you ever met anyone on drugs who was happy with themselves? What about person who keeps choosing abusive men?

"I'm not like that!" yelled the young woman.

Of course not. You choose no one at all.

The young woman stopped. Froze and really though about what 'She' was saying. "What are you talking about? You know what I'm trying to accomplish. So what if I haven't fucked yet?"

'She' sounded bemused. I wasn't specifically talking about a physical relationship with someone. Emotionally, you never let anyone get too close.

"I wonder why? Maybe because I keep on getting screwed?"

People who keep secrets to puff themselves up, generally attract other people who keep secrets to puff themselves up. Let it all out. All of it, and I'm sure you'll meet the people you want.

The young woman shrugged, not in defeat or callousness, but in a kind of acceptance. "Maybe." was all she replied.