Why are we here?

Wow.  What a way to lead in, right?  Well first off, let's get the housekeeping out of the way.  On your way to this link, you had to click the little box that advised you of adult content ahead.  Now, I'm not going to be writing things that you might think should be censored, but I will be typing out honest, occasionally sensitive, thoughts.  And we all know my language can get a little dicey when I'm emotional.  So you've been duly warned that it probably isn't all rainbows and unicorns ahead.  But then again, that's why we are here.  Honesty, reclaiming ourselves, looking at the good and the changeable. Don't worry, this isn't going to be some gloom and doom type boo-hooing.  It won't be some uber-inspired self-help endeavor, either.  Just me, catching up with me.


So, why are we here? Recently, I've been struggling with the thought that I've lost my identity.  Caught up in all of this that we call life, I've forgotten who I was.  No, who I am. I still have to remind myself of that spunky, vibrant person I used to be. Still am.  The writer, the dreamer, the girl who could party until the sun came up, take a nap, and do it all over again the next day.  I think a lot of people in my life are missing that person.  I know I am.  And damnit, it's time that I did something for myself.

Right now, who am I?  I truly don't know how I would summarize myself.  This used to come so naturally to me, as I am sure it did to many of you.  "Who are you?" "Oh, I'm a senior, business major, member of XYZ sorority, and I volunteer part-time at the ASPCA."  etc.  Or after college: "I'm a Marketing Director for Acme Products.  I own a condo in Old Town, and have a labrador retriever.  In my spare time, I enjoy mountain biking and long walks on the beach."

So why is it so hard now, at age 33, to define myself?  Sure, I'm a wife and mother, and I have a career. I live in a beautiful home in Southern California, drive a nice vehicle, and enjoy my volunteer work.  But none of that is who I am. What is?  Someone asked me this week, "What do you enjoy doing?" and would you know, I couldn't for the life of me think of an answer?  Yeah, I like to take pictures.  I like to go off-roading in my SUV.  I like to write. Go to the beach. Explore mexican cuisine. Watch the clouds. Lots of things. But at that moment, I couldn't answer. Why?  What the hell is wrong with me?  And if I could have answered, I can guarantee I would have been completely non-committal.

Before anyone jumps to the diagnosis of clinical depression, allow me to offer an alternative: We're in that "grey area" of life.  (Yes, grey with an "e".  I'm worldly. Deal.)  So much of our life is defined by milestones and expectations, but right now (and many of my friends will surely agree), I'm at that point where the next step is unclear.  College: check. Get married: check. Have a baby: check. Move across the country: check. So now what?  THAT, my friends, is what I intend to find out.  I'm done just living one day to get to the next, waiting for something to happen.  Because when you wait for something to happen, it is never good.  You have to make good for yourself, and I'm tired of bad things happening to me and those I love.

So here we go.  Get ready for bumps, tears, laughs, F-bombs, and more.

-G