We are all daughters, that goes without saying because we are born to mothers. Each of our stories begins there, at birth. But who are we really? Who am I really? I am a daughter, wife, mother, step sister, aunt, friend, neighbor,cook, gardener, artist, writer- the list goes on and on. But who am I really? If you ask all the people in my life, you most likely would get a different answer from each one of them. Does any one person know another? They know certain characteristics but do any of us really know the people in our lives. Does anyone really know me? Does anyone really know you? I know some people consider me flakey and I used to take great offense to that before I realized that they were right. I was flakey with them because I really felt no connection to them. That does not mean anything was wrong with them or me for that matter. The relationship just was not there, therefore, I was flakey.
My deep inner most thoughts are just that deep and inner and not shared but it is also part of who I am. Is it good to keep them to myself because others will misunderstand what I truly mean or can I bare that part of who I am and not be persecuted?. There are times that I feel lonely and no matter who is home or who I am with I am very lonely and sad. I think these feelings are necessary to go through to be better and to reboot our own systems. Do I share these sad moments or do I hide them like always and get through it by myself?
So my story began at birth. My first role in this life was as a daughter. I have roughly 60-80 years to become something other than that. Once again who am I? Your story also began at birth and your first role was that of a daughter- who are you now? Tell me.