Who Am I?

The eternal question. So easy to answer, on the surface of it; "Me". As the Judeo-Christian God said in reply to the question, "I AM WHO I AM".

But beyond that? Who am I? The product of my circumstances? My thoughts? My actions? My opinions? My parents? My desires? My beliefs? Others' perceptions? Most likely all of that and a bit more.

I don't know why I'm going all existential, (I swear, I haven't touched a drop, gov...). Sometimes you've just got to go with it.

The question poses all sorts of philosophical possibilities. Are we always the same person? Are we unique? Is uniqueness equal with originality, or does it merely mean we are made up of all the same attributes, but in different proportions? Can you adequately describe a person, or must they be experienced? Or do we merely select and describe facets of people? As more things are revealed about someone, do they become a different person (at least in your mind)?

I daresay one could ponder such things for an eternity and still get nowhere. Philosophy and theology are like that, IMHO.

Why should I be describable? Categorical? Why should people fit into a box? Why define ourselves through our labels?

That last question hit something that has bothered me for a while, especially with regards to sexuality and "coming out". What does it matter if someone doesn't know my romantic inclinations?

I make no secret of my sexuality, nor do I advertise it. In certain necessary situations, I admit to being strategically vague. But I fail to comprehend the viewpoint recently expressed to me, that it's wrong to not actively tell people, because I am denying them knowledge of who I am.

It's as much a part of me as my love for Hobnobs and ginger biscuits, my dislike of hot climates, my critical observances, my fierce stubbornness and integrity, etc. But somehow, "gay" has become so much more in our society, to the point of taking us over almost entirely. The label defines us in peoples' eyes.

Why bring that judgement upon myself, at times when the subject is irrelevant? When the stereotype and baggage that so frequently comes with the "gay" label would cause nothing but strife?

That awkward stage between Birth and Death...

Recent weeks have seen a heightened amount of introspection on my part. Usually, I am merely hypercritical and self-doubting; that aspect is still there, however I have been making a conscious effort to move beyond it. Which is good, I suppose. Otherwise I would just be depressed again.

(I'm not entirely sure where this post is going, so it may ramble a bit.)

As a person, I find myself confusing, and I have it on good authority that others also perceive me in this way. On the one hand (exempli gratia) I am naturally expressive of emotion and a poor liar. My face is apparently an open book. And yet, on the other hand, I frustrate those around me by giving nothing away. Thoughts, feelings, opinions, if present, rarely get externalised. I am extremely skilled at being vague. I find probing questions discomforting and, frankly, often offensive. If I do ever speak out, it's usually in writing. There have been few things of sufficient importance to make me speak openly.

Part of it, I feel, is that all too frequently I don't have an opinion when others expect me to. Events that seem to enrapture most people, slide right by me, barely registering. I just don't care for major holidays, or celebrations, or celebrities, et al. It isn't dislike; they merely elicit little or no emotion. They don't excite me, I don't ponder over them, I have no view to express. Why should I? It's all just "meh".

Another aspect could be that I am very much a "here and now" person. Dwelling on the past just leads to beating myself up, living in the future is a futile endeavour. I don't talk about myself or my past very often in conversation; I prefer to ask questions and let other people do the talking.

Unavoidable, also, is what might be deemed insecurity. I am introverted and very private.

A friend once made some remarks that stuck with me. To paraphrase, she said "I know almost nothing about you. You rarely say anything, but I know that when you do say something, it will be important to you. I trust you and can tell you things; I'm not sure why, but I suppose it's because you've never given me any reason not to. You don't buy into all the bullshit gossip, judging, back-biting that so many people deal in..."

I was flattered, of course, but some interesting questions were raised in my mind. Would she still want to be around me if she knew more about me? Things I've done? Who I am? What I am? Why do so many people freely open up to me, and why can I not do the same with others? Do I need to? Should I?

Mater Tua!

Well, I've been finding myself with too much time on my hands and too few constructive outputs. Perhaps merely a side-effect of moving to a new area, but then again, I've never been a vibrant social butterfly. Hence I shall venture once again into the dubious realm of blogging, for better or for worse.

Perhaps this time I'll manage to keep it going.

This shall likely become a collection of overly verbose, random rants and musings, as that's what my writing frequently tends towards.

You have been warned =)