What do you see when you look into my eyes? Can you feel my force field of confidence, or can you look past it and see the insecurities I hide? What do you know for certain when you look at me? I hope the answer is nothing because I would hate to be that easy to figure out. I refuse to be another stereotype. I refuse to accept your labels. I refuse to wear a name tag; that’s all you need to form your opinion of me. If you want to know my name, come ask me and I will tell you with the humanity and benevolence of my voice that it is Korab. Just don’t ask me questions I don’t know the answers to. No, I don’t know who I am. I know what I’m supposed to be but I most certainly do not know who I am- do you? Don’t ask me who I am, but who I am trying to be. Don’t ask me what I do; it won’t tell you what you need to know. Ask me what I value so you can see whether it’s reflected in my behaviors. Whatever you do, do not ask me if I am happy, because I will tell you I’m not exactly sure what you mean by the question. But before you can respond I will tell you that I am happy with the person I am becoming. I will tell you that I am not happy with the person I used to be. I will tell you that I would be more than happy to change a few things about my life but would have no idea how to go about doing so. I will tell you that happiness is fleeting, and it’s not what I’m looking for anyway. I’m looking for enough meaning to outweigh the pain I’ve been harboring for most of my life. Most importantly, I will tell you that I am happy you listened. You don’t know what you know until you actually say it, but it’s not the same when I’m talking to myself. So thank you… thank you for asking me my name.
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