I looked back at my Google search history the other day. If you’ve never done this, I highly recommend the exercise. It’s tremendously entertaining. Among my first ten searches were “dying ovary meme”, “pooping in bluebonnets”, and “plain chalk outline”. Who am I, anyway? A glance at my Facebook timeline depicts me as someone who cares about others, and is somewhat obsessed with serial killers. One day I’m posting about suicide prevention and raising money for Alzheimer’s research, and the next day I’m posting a video of my attempt to break into a meth lab 😂.
The truth is, I am a quirky, complicated, overly-empathetic woman who believes that we are all a complex compilation of our experiences, personality traits, and the ways in which we interpret the world. None of us is just one thing.
I wonder what people might think about me, based only on my social media presence. While it’s not something I fret over, I do find it interesting to think about. No matter how genuine I try to be, there will always be things I don’t share. Authenticity is good, but so are boundaries.
As soon as I think I’ve got a handle on who I am, life changes, and I realize that I’ve changed, too. I will never stop growing, changing, and becoming, and neither will you. And thank goodness this is true, because otherwise I’d still be the self-focused, awkward teenager I once was. And quite possibly I’d be wearing shoulder pads and an apple core necklace.
The bottom line is this: It’s okay to simultaneously love animals and true crime podcasts... to be a person who cries over acts of kindness, and belly laughs over poop emoji pencils. My goal is just to be me, 100% of the time. As a wise friend once put it, Kat: 10.0 😁. And you just be you. Identity crises: Thwarted.