Who. Do. I. Want. To. Be. What??? Is this a trick question? Is this where I say too much and have professionals come out with silver bracelets or a lovely jacket that makes me hug myself? Is this where they pull me into Human Resources to have a conversation about dressing up because I took “dress for the job you want” too far? Do I get really whimsical and talk about the idealized version of myself and what I want life to look like? You know, if the world wasn’t [gestures broadly]? The last two questions posed clearly hint at the dire situations facing humankind, and I find that answering “who do you want to be” much more complicated by the knowledge of overall global turmoil. It feels almost like we must be something important — but then indignation sets in once again. Do you even know me? The struggles I’ve already faced alone, head-on? Why do I have to keep showing up? A scene in the anime “Sailor Moon” in which Luna has to reactivate Usagi’s memories from her fight against Queen Beryl resonates deeply within my soul right now. Her Japanese voice actress emits a guttural scream as Usagi recalls all the fighting and realizes she’s being called upon once again to lead the charge against evil forces: “Who… Who Am I? No! I don’t want to fight anymore! I wanna be an ordinary girl! An ordinary girl! Noooo!”
This is the part where I take a deep breath, exhale loudly, and close my eyes in hopes of holding back the tears. Truly, all I have ever wanted was to just… live. Not survive. Not fight. Not struggle and claw and scream and mask. Just live. Be myself. Enjoy the sunshine on my skin on a warm Spring day. Feel the juice trinkle down my chin as I bite into a fresh piece of watermelon in the summertime. Run my hands through the soft fur of any precious animal that allows me to approach it. Savor the brilliant colors of a rainbow after a storm passes. Dance in the flowers like no one’s watching. Hear the sound of leaves crunching under my feet in autumn. Throwing snowballs like a child in winter — I don’t care how old I am, I’m going to play because it’s scientifically proven to be good for adults. I want to bake cookies and cakes (and not get fat), sip warm drinks (tea, coffee, cocoa, doesn’t matter, they’re all delicious), read books, write with colorful ink in beautifully printed notebooks, and sit in my plant-filled sunroom. Ah, but that’s not really a “who,” as much as it is a “what.”
Recent knowledge has indicated to me that I need to review history despite my distain for the academic conventions forced upon me in my youth. I associated the subject with rote memorization and test scores, losing memories due to lack of usage. We focused on names, places, and dates when we needed to focus on the lessons — quality over quantity. The lessons aren’t WHO did WHAT and WHEN; it was what can we learn from this? What can we do better in the future? People seem to forget that we can’t keep making the same mistakes and calling them “mistakes.” After a while, it’s on purpose. I do not wish to fight, but I do have a rather eclectic playlist. We wanted peace, but you brought this war.
In repayment for the writing inspiration, I encourage you to view this music video. Perhaps I don’t want to idealize my future anymore (I stopped doing Susannah Conway’s “Ideal Day” prompt for her annual “Find Your Word” workbooks because I always return to the same basic “I just want to be happy, healthy, and safe” idea) because I see that the world is beyond my control. Someone else has access to a shiny red button, and I am realistically powerless to stop them from dooming us all — but that’s no way to live, is it? Waiting and wondering when it all just… ends? All we have is now. Maybe in one moment the gravity of life will have me in tears, but in the next I will be wheezing and laughing after my algorithm has fed me something atrociously vulgar. I still control myself and my reactions, and I still maintain the agency to look up at the sky and admire the clouds, the birds, the stars… to look around me and see life waking back up, tiny leaves tightly wrapped on branches waiting to unfurl and soak in the sun’s warmth, flowers opening and inviting the bees to come back and pollinate the next generation… even if it all goes up in smoke tomorrow, who should dare stop me from living my life?!
Who do I want to be? I want to be that ungovernable wild woman, unapologetically throwing glitter, flipping the middle finger, and grinning deviously because you can’t break her spirit.
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