My identity moves like the mercury in a thermometer
When it’s hot I take a layer off
When it’s cold, I put more on to protect me from
The onslaught of questions that usually start
“So, where are you from?”
My identity was born between seasons
North and South
East and West
The meridians forming crossword puzzles
Across my birth.
My identity takes me around the world
In a time machine
I travel between my past and future
With a few stops in between
With neither passport giving me the freedom
Or comfort of being
In the present.
I crave to be seen
Because right now
That shows on my face
Blurs the real colour of me
And I know we all dream of a colour less world
But I don’t want to be invisible,
A theory that everything is relative
Time is relative. A long day versus a short day. A good year versus a bad year. The longest minute of my life. Relative to my life, yours appears so much better. Relative to me, you are stronger, more courageous, more mature and more successful. Should I be jealous of you? You who can beat me at every sport, run faster, last longer, love perhaps, better. Is it because I may have travelled further from my beginnings than you? Who am I to judge how far you’ve come? And what about refraction, when light hit you in such a way that it bounded off at such a strange and acute angle that you were forced to turn corners, deflect, rebound and perhaps re-invent yourself. Light bends. It distorts. Our expectations are often mislead by a seemingly straight line, but it’s not. Had you a special sight? A better vantage point to know what was coming? Or did you just begin your life with a vision?
A friend or two, once suggested I see a psychiatrist due to the multiple personalities I seemed to be sporting. I mentioned it to another friend who hasn’t seen me for three years but we still have that special bond and she said, “Only two? Are you sure? I think I have a handful”. Coming from someone I always believed to be quite sorted and grown-up and well, sane, this came as a surprise. We laughed it off over msn via smileys and lols but it kind of struck me as weird. She has a multiple personality disorder too?
I guess as women we have a head start. At least, that’s what men think and at least that’s what I think too. Most women I know are incredibly unpredictable, two-faced and extremely versatile in switching roles and identities. That doesn’t make them crazy, I guess, just better equipped for this crazy modern world and very intriguing. That’s where women have the edge on men. Besides being more sensitive to others and being smarter in more ways than one (yes, it’s true, women are the smarter sex, I have confirmed it here), women can really change to suit their environments, like true chameleons, their emotions can hit one extreme to another in the drop of a hat; hysteria to objective clarity, but this does not make them crazy, only stronger. After all, two heads are better than one.