Initially, when asked to write about “the real me”‘, I feel rather self indulgent, because I’ve grown up in the shadow of, “it’s never a good idea to talk about yourself”.
I’m number 55 on Eden’s list and although I haven’t read any of the other blogs (except Kek) that have linked up, I believe that we’d be all quite different, yet spookily similar about who we really are. I would bet my bottom dollar that when I read everyone’s blogs, there will be some strikingly similar themes, such as shaky self confidence, the need for love and approval etc etc.
I’ve never written in the sense of “the real me” on this blog and this is mostly driven by fear. If I had no holds barred, what would I really write? What would people think of me? What would be the outcome? The thought terrifies me because this blog shows just the tip of the iceberg of who I really am.
I’m a raging introvert – I’ll be the one to want to leave a party before the first round of canapes are served. I’m glad I’m allergic to alcohol because when I was younger, I yearned to be able to drink myself into a stupor to show the world that I was having a good time and that under the influence I could get out of my own way if I wanted to. These days, I try and get out of my own way by helping other people and attempting to do yoga.
I’ve always been a bit of an all rounder – dabbling in both science and the arts and by my own admission, I’m a little chameleon like in that I will appear to others in the sense of how they want to see me – which is usually as a source of factual information, rather than a fertile mind. You may think I’m cycling up a hill, but in my mind, “I’ve thrown down my enemy and smote her ruin upon the mountainside”, to paraphrase Tolkein.
No matter what the event, I’m always focusing on the possibilities. I’m always looking for the hidden meaning.
Whilst I love the facts, I want to know what you think about them. I love people and want to know your story and understand what makes you tick. I resonate more with those who struggle than those who are highly successful by our worldly standards. I would bet anything, no post I read today will go along the lines of, “I was the most popular kid at school…”
I’m fiercely idealistic and highly opinionated and if I think the cause is worth fighting for, not afraid to voice my thoughts, even if they’re not the popular consensus. And I’d rather stand up for what I believe in than follow the crowd on the stuff that really matters.
I’m quietly rebellious. When somebody tells me, “you should do this,” I smile and nod my head, but on the inside, my Inner Monkey is flinging poo at them and mouthing the words, “make me”.
I marvel at how sure and unsure of myself I can be at the same time.
I’m a parent and wife – yet, I haven’t found motherhood easy – not by a long shot. There are times when I wish I could just pack my bags and disappear. I’m not the doting soccer Mum, doing Art and Craft at the school was a complete disaster and making Easter Bunny Hats is like putting bamboo under my fingernails. Yet it’s not all bad. Convincing a class of Year Seven boys to do the limbo is more up my alley as is taking the girls for a bike ride and whipping up a mean set of pancakes.
I gain immense satisfaction from helping others. I love watching people change and embrace physical activity in their life.
I’m terrible at crafty things and way too messy around the house. Vanilla ice cream is my favourite. Followed by a decent curry. I’m not particularly stylish. I love good sci-fi. I also cane for a gripping drama. A library full of books, a warm fireplace and a dog at my feet is an idea of heaven. So too is an early morning swim at the beach followed by breakfast and the paper.
I’m an animal person. I love all creatures great and small – except for mice – those I could do without.
I tried, but don’t think I scratched the surface – and that’s OK.