I am many things.
In a different time, any one of the things I am would be a definition of who I was and how I think. But, in this time, this age of forward thinking offset by backwards progress, of science as law but only if it says what we want to hear, of nature as secondary to what we want to do, I am not sure of who I am or even who I want to be.
I am a thinker.
My thoughts run rough shod over my life, sometimes spilling inappropriately across a table of not yet friends, sometimes being closed up inside behind a wall of fear. I hope to find focus here, a way to channel the thoughts into clarity, clarity into action, action into change. No pressure,
I am a mother.
I have three amazing, smart, challenging, challenged, funny, broken, strong, independent, needy, focused, vibrant, lost, conflicted and stalwart adult or nearly adult children. They aren’t my life, but they are my footing. They aren’t my only joy, but they are my fascination. They are mine. And they aren’t mine as now they belong more and more to themselves and to the family they are building in the big wide world.
I am a wife.
Of sorts. Not a very traditional one, but one none the less. I have a husband, which is only because I fell in love with this one man. It could have gone another way, if he wasn’t so much the right other for me.
I am a midwife.
Which, here in NZ where I live and work, means I am a medical professional with a bachelors degree and a legal obligation to behave like a decent person. Which is scary when it comes to writing a blog, because who gets to determine decency?
I am a feminist.
Not a tumbler feminist, not a new age feminist, not an old school feminist. Just, a feminist. A person who believes that for the human race to progress and flourish, we need to treat each other equally. That there should not be a question of gender in any situation.
I am left leaning.
By which I mean actual left, not left of centre right.
I am a foodie.
I love to cook. It is a form of therapy. I love to eat, but that love came the hard way after years of battling with body dysmorphia and eating disorders. I love to share my food and the discussions that come about over a table groaning with deliciousness.
I am a writer.
By which I mean, I have always written. Poetry, short stories, even the elusive novel in pieces all over the place. Now, this.
I am a young mum.
This is different to being a mum. A young mum in our society has an essentially different experience of life. There is a look that is saved for us, a quintessential societal understanding of who we are that is applied as soon as the question “Wait, how old were you when you had them?” is asked. Said understanding is either that we are the stereotype, or the exception that proves the rule… which is exhausting.
I am opinionated.
Shocking, I know. It’s a downer for a lot of people, but some get past it.
I am a person who was at one point homeless.
Which means that I think about the world differently to others, sometimes. I don’t see safety the way some see it. I don’t see danger where others do.
I am a reader.
Which probably explains everything else about me.
I am ostensibly an extrovert.
Although in the spirit of honesty, I should acknowledge that I am generally horribly uncomfortable around people. I fake it well enough, but if you look closer, there is more nervous speaking than confident quiet.
I am terrified.
I doubt my choices, question my own motives and judge myself harshly. So you can imagine what I am doing to everyone else!
I am looking forward to finding out who else I am