I Think This Is About Identity

I think most of life is paradoxical.  For instance, one of my deepest desires is to be known, but I freaking hate it when someone says they understand me.

So, me being me, I thought about why that might be.

What bugs me most is that no one really does know me.  Liz is probably closest, and she never says that she knows me, which probably just goes to show how well she really does.  But with pretty much everyone, I hide parts of myself.  Sometimes it's stupid, sometimes it's important.  Regardless, I am very aware of the fact that no one knows all the nooks and crannies of who I am.

Especially online.

I have a pretty thoroughly-crafted online persona.  I reveal my weaknesses, but only the ones I'm comfortable revealing.  I create witty Facebook statuses, but if no one likes them, I delete them.  Sometimes I rewrite a stupid Facebook status three times before leaving it alone.  I have a self-deprecating sense of humor so that I laugh at myself before others can.  I write about things that I have an opinion upon because I want to look at least mildly informed and intelligent.

I'm aware of the fact that, if that is the person I present, then why get mad that people assume it's who am I?

Well, I'm human, obviously.  Even though I'm hijacking the system, I still want to be known.  And watching someone act like they know me when they are missing crucial parts of who I am is painful.  Even if I am the cause.

Liz has a theory that we stick people with labels whether they want it or not.  She's "the girl who gets coffee."  When I was in Peoria earlier, I learned that I've apparently been labeled "weird." 

Which, just, what?  I don't think I'm all that weird.  Sure, I've stepped away from a lot of my Baptist roots, but....fundamentally, I'm not weird.  I want the same things everyone wants.  I want a life of meaning, I want relationships but I'm scared of getting hurt, I seek pleasure in things that never fully satisfy, I doubt and I dream and I hope.  I'm a complex human being, and it's really annoying to be labeled with only part of who I am.

Peoria always does a number on me.  Hometowns are hard.  "Is it any wonder why we all leave home? / People say, "I knew you when you were six years old" / And you say, "But I've changed, I've changed, I've changed, I've changed."

But also sometimes, I haven't.  So.  No easy answers.

I'm just rambling now.  Yeesh, emotions.  Which reminds me of another post I want to write about how the stereotype of women being overly emotional might just be the result of culture not holding women responsible for becoming emotionally mature.  MINDBLOWING, so good, etc, ugh I'm tired but I don't want to go to sleep, and the Internet is not as endlessly entertaining as the adverts promised, so now I'm just stream-of-consciousnessing, eurgh.