I’m reinventing myself.
That’s what I said to myself on the day after my birthday.
New Year, New Me. Time to make some changes. I’m reinventing myself.
As if I have any idea who I am, to attempt to create a new version of myself that is different from original me.
I think I am not the same person I used to be.
That the me of today is not the same me that I was a few years ago. That too much has changed for me to go by the same name.
Sometimes. I feel that I am a different person on different days to different people and this is all a game of illusion.
That I am not two sides of the same coin, but instead two different coins stuck together by soluble glue parading as one. That just a splash of water will reveal my facade.
Even if it takes the work of nail polish remover to expose my insides, will I pass?
I stand on the highest rooftop on the highest mountain and shout as loud as I can for everyone who cares to hear.
‘I AM ME! I AM ME!‘
Who is this Me I claim to be? Is there a way to define who I am for even myself to understand and agree? Is there a word, a sentence, a page, a book, a movie, that covers the expanse of my life description?
Would I recognize it if I saw it?
Sometimes, I agree that I will never be the same person I used to be. That I have breathed in the dust of a silver jubilee and it has wrecked my insides forever unclean. I am not the child of my mother. I am not my brother’s little sister. I am not your friend. I am not the writer I used to be.
I am not me.
And I accept this.
This acceptance even, may change me.