People know me as different things and for many, I remind them of someone. I’m like their mother, their sister, a teacher, a friend, a cousin, their grandmother . . . the list goes on and on. I am to them what their previous relationship contained.
On this blog I try to be known as a writer. I have another blog where I pretend to be a comedian. Then there’s the third blog where I am an older woman.
I’ve done many jobs in my life. I’ve worked retail, been a telephone operator, a school teacher, a test/portfolio reader/scorer, a proofreader, general office worker, dictaphone transcriber, typist . . . heck one summer I even was a construction worker. I’m sure that although I was the same person in all those jobs, I was viewed through a different lens for each.
Has anyone ever seen me for the real person I am? Am I me – a unique person, or someone that reminds them of someone else, or someone doing a job they need doing?
I think in these final years of life, I see myself more clearly. I acknowledge my faults, where in the past I might have tried to gloss over them. I spend more time thinking how my actions cause reactions in others. I ask, what do I want to be remembered for?
I’d love to be remembered as the real me for when I showed up, but I wonder if that’s possible?