Who am I?
Isn’t that a question we all ask our selves?
I am a writer(am I any good?), singer, figure skater, horse back rider(western style), an artist(well I can’t draw or paint or anything involving art but I try), a swimmer, a runner, an idiot, a genius, a bad speller, lover of history, hater of war, vegetarian, geek, cello player(though not very well), debater, mock trial person, and so many other things.
But these still don’t answer my question.
Who am I?
I am the girl who sings in the hallways, annoying people out of their minds. The girl who is so scared about falling back into the old me, the person who didn’t think, just did, the person who gave up herself to fit in. Yes, I get it, hearing me sing is annoying but if I don’t am I denying who I am? The girl who wants to sing and probably has the closest thing to living a real life musical? But if I try to be myself too much am I really being myself?
But these things still don’t answer my question
There is no answer to my question.
I am me. I change, I grow, I learn, over thinking it is part of being me, pretending to be who I am not is also part of being me, trying too hard to show the world who I am is part of being me.
I am free
to look into