Who Am I?

 The age old question: 

Who am I?

This question haunts all of us in many different ways. When we learnt to chameleon into society, we start to adapt different personality traits that help us blend in to be accepted, losing bits and pieces of our actual selves along the way. One day, we simply get to a point where we look at ourselves and ask, "Who am I, really?"

I recently had this conversation with my therapist, questioning who I am and how much of my personality is the real me and how much is me emulating someone else?

When I was younger, I was known as an imaginative child, someone who was simply herself and did not care much about what others thought. I was different, silly, expressive and I loved it. But there was always one person who I wanted to be accepted by, and that person was my older sister, Kim. 

Throughout this blog, you've read about my sister and how much I loved her and how we tragically lost her when she was 22. I was 13 when she passed, and though I was old enough to have my own mind, I was also still a child in many respects. 

Bodily-wise, I matured faster than most of my friends and when I turned about 9 years old, I was able to fit into Kim's clothes. I became her personal Barbie doll, being able to dress me up however she wanted to. She had good intentions by doing this; I was awkward and she wanted to make sure I was not bullied and had the most up to date styles. It was sweet, and though I knew and appreciated this, my brain also perceived it as "if I do what she wants me to do and be what she wants me to be, she'll like me,"

Because this seemed to work, I took this on later on as well, taking an interest in many things she liked and allowing her to shape my personality in many ways. I wanted to be just like her. After she passed, I still took on this mentality, constantly trying to fit in as she would have, using her personality to make friends and act rather than my own. 

"What would Kim do?" "What would Kim be like?" "I should do what Kim would do." 

It did not help that once I hit a certain age, my extended family was particularly cruel about my appearance and personality, telling me I was ugly and stupid. Then, after she passed, some family and friends inadvertently tried to treat me as they did her, because we were so similar. I would hear them say "You're my new Kim," or "You're so much like Kimmy," or even "You remind me too much of her, I can't be around you." I don't talk about these moments much, because many of the people who said them don't even remember saying it. But they always stuck with me throughout my childhood, even though they were never said with malcontent.

I was mini-Kim, when she was alive and when she was gone, and I would become incredibly angry or hurt at these labels. I would constantly say "I'm not her, I'm Kate." 

But even I never fully believed it. They liked me as Kim's mini-me, so that is what I became, because I was too scared that if they saw the real me, I would be alone. They wouldn't like me anymore.

As I entered my early-mid 20s, I started to challenge this mindset and figure out who exactly I was. I still had my own personality traits and every so often, if I felt comfortable enough, I would let them show.

Then, recently, I realized that it is OK to be myself. Everyone liked Kim, but that doesn't mean that no one would like me too. If Kim were here, I'm not quite sure what she would think or even be like, but I know she would want me to be myself, though she did enjoy the idolization at times. If Kim were here now, I would not have the life I have now; I would not have the friends I have or have written the books I've written. I would not be a modern hippie, too afraid she or others would make fun of me. 

I find it cruel that she was not here to experience me as an adult, but the child she knew and the woman I am are two totally different people. And I think that would make her happy, because it makes me happy. 

I will always have traits that are similar to hers, because she helped shape me, but I will no longer hide the parts of me that are wholly Kate. And she wouldn't want it any other way.

Who Am I is such a loaded question. No one knows exactly who they are because we are always changing and growing. But do not shove yourself aside out of fear of not being accepted, because I promise, the right people will accept you and love you. Those are the relationships you put stock in. As well as the relationship with yourself. 

Everyone is worthy of love and acceptance, so "let your freak flag fly!" Personally, I'm proud to be a little different, because if we were all the same, how boring would that be?