Last night while we were lying in bed John said quietly, "All I know about you is from your stories of the past, like from when you were little." And it's kind of true, for being married longer than we actually dated he doesn't know me all that well. And yet he does, he can anticipate my moods, and how I'm going to react to something. He knows my favorite foods and all the small things that he'd need to know if we were going to try to fake getting a green card to keep me in the country. But it hurt a little to hear, "I don't really know you."

I was taken aback and tried to quickly summarize something about me, about the present but I only stuttered out a short list of things that trailed off pretty miserably. This morning I was left with persistant questions, "Who am I?" "What defines me today?" "What can I share with my husband who feels that he knows me, but in the same respect, doesn't?"
The Known
Several years ago, I was defined by my father's death. It changed me, instantly--for both better and worse. I became a nicer person but I became more reckless and careless with myself. Then, I decided to become a teacher, and this decision defined me in an even greater way. I immerse myself in my job, in my students, in loving my work. I've allowed myself to be defined by my friends and sometimes the people I shared my bed with--most of them (all of the bedmates), have gone by the wayside--I have few close friends left. I've taken that pretty hard, I miss my friends--but we all change--and I fear they grew up before I was ready to, and I was left behind.
The Partially Unknown
I have to fight against myself because as soon as I achieve something, I subconciously attempt to sabotage myself. I'm not sure why, but I've been doing it for years. For the first time in almost four years I can breathe a small sigh of relief, after finally digging myself out of my last taste of personal sabotage... and it feels nice. I've been carrying a weight of stress, fear, guilt and embarassment that I've tried to off-set with humor. I'm sure some believe that I come off sounding like I've taken all of this lightly, but I haven't. Now the hardest part. While I breathe easily, I have to police myself and make sure I don't do myself in again. I get pre-occupied with this idea because the only thing that I'm worried about destroying is my relationship with John. I don't think I could handle that. And it's that thought that has kept me on pins and needles for over half this year. As safe and comfortable as I feel with John--I'm worried about what I'm going to do wrong. It's paralyzing at times.
The Completely Unknown
So who am I now? Why have I been living in the past and why do I constantly only share that part of me? I think the answer to these questions is that I've been waiting to start over. I finally have that chance. I no longer have to be that girl who did half the stupid things I've done. I'm no longer the girl who wants to go to the bars all the time. I'm no longer the girl who gets bored when there isn't constant noise and I'm not the center of attention (although everyone knows that I do enjoy that...sometimes). It's actually freeing to write all that down.

So really John, I'm not sure who I am right now because I feel like a blank slate again. I'd really appreciate it, if you helped me find out who I'd want to be. I'd like you to meet the girl who likes campfires, adventure and all other things that extend beyond our living room, and our tiny town.