“Explain who you are to me in a word or a phrase.”

I once had a writing instructor give this assignment to my class when I was in college. It seemed like a trick question, almost too easy.  Down the line he went, one student after another, asking the question. We all paused before answering but spoke the obvious anyway.  

“Who ARE you?”

The responses: “Student.” “Working Mom.” “ IT professional.” “Lawyer.” “Best friend.” The list went on like this until every student had spoken.

His only response: “You’ve labeled yourself with how the world sees you.  Come back next week and tell me how you see yourself. And I don’t want to hear that you are someone’s Mom or someone’s employee.”

I went home that night and thought.  At the time, I was 28 years old with a great job.  Newly divorced and figuring out how to be single again.  Childless with zero maternal instinct.  My clock hadn’t even begun to tick.  I wanted to travel to Europe, learn to cook Italian and write the next great American novel.   I had just bought a convertible with the sole intention of driving with the top down on warm summer nights under glorious displays of stars, alone, listening to my old U2 CDs and thanking God for a second chance at my life following a disastrous first marriage.  My label was FREE.

So I…went to London. Took a girl’s cruise with a friend that took us from Grand Cayman where we swam with stingrays, until the cruise resumed all the way up the Mississippi river to New Orleans. Frequented the ocean.  Wrote.  Finished grad school.  My real job in the IT field evolved; I was promoted.   

I lived FREEly until FREEDOM had lost its luster.  I watched my siblings and friends start families.  I became the favorite aunt, always showing up with the cool presents; always taking other people’s kids out for the fun trips to the zoo or Chuck E. Cheese.  They squealed with happiness when I arrived, always knowing I had something fun in store.  They hugged me sleepily at the end of long days.  And I would go home with a new feeling of disdain for another label I carried: ALONE.

Soon thereafter, I met my second husband and fell in love when I had all but given up on love.   At that point, you could have labeled me with HOPE.

Fast forward a decade and I am now a WORKING MOM, WIFE, FRIEND, SISTER, AUNT, IT PROFESSIONAL, BLOGGER – labels my professor would not approve of because they are how the world sees me and not how I see myself.

On this cold winter night, I am sitting by the fire next to my husband.  My dog lies at our feet.  My son is in the other room playing with his best friend.    

“Who ARE you?”  I still hear him asking the class.

Whether he likes it or not, I am Working Mom, Wife, Friend, Sister, Aunt , IT Professional, Blogger all rolled into one during this snapshot of my life, packaged in one word: CONTENT.

But it is only a snapshot.  Experience has taught me that my label will change, which is kind of the beauty of life.  Someday I might be OLD WOMAN looking back at the labels that made up my life.  Hopefully COMPLETE or FULFILLED.  I would love to end it all with JOYOUS.

“Explain to me who you are in a word or a phrase…”  Not how the world sees you but how you see yourself. 

In one word or phrase, your assignment: RESPOND.

I welcome your comments below or visit me at www.walkswithstress.wordpress.com!