I have more than one side to my personality, perhaps more than most other people. My students rarely believe I’m an introvert.  When I’m in front of a room full of students I am passionate, quirky, and outspoken. They know exactly what I think about environmental issues, architectural integrity and twentieth century design. I can be silly and self deprecating and confident. I dress for the part as though I were taking a role on stage. I make sure the clothes are fairly comfortable, but I also ensure that I look the part of an artist/designer. The artist quotient enables me to be slightly more casual than otherwise. I get my nails done. I have my hair colored, with a purple streak somewhere. My glasses make statements, both pairs. 

As soon as I leave the classroom I’m in standby mode. I’m ready to interact with students in a professional level, but I revert internally to a more introverted state until they appear. I keep a professional distance in my interactions. I’m fairly silent with most other professors. 

At church they would never believe I could act like an extrovert. I’m quiet, almost silent. I wear yoga pants and sweatshirts.  I’m full of questions. I disagree with some of the church policies, but hardly anyone knows. Mostly I go so I can get hugs, and sing when I’m needed with the worship crew. My uncertainty about just about everything leaks through.  I’m pretty tapped out from keeping up all that professionalism during the week. 

When I’m writing I can be sarcastic, witty and vivid. I can sound totally confident and slightly snarky, but if a reader were to meet me in person s/he’d find someone who’s agreeable. Affable might be a good term. 

There are exceptions but when I’m with most conservative friends I’m quiet, because I know I disagree about at least a few things. In their eyes I know I’m the one who has God issues. I accept the perception that I’m the one who’s fucked up and waiting to be fixed, even though I no longer believe this is more true for me than anyone else. I lose touch with my own thoughts because I assume they won’t be accepted. It’s really annoying actually, because I truly value differences and would love to be able to have open, respectful discussions in which we talk about what we believe and why. We could offer ourselves and discover that hearing different perspectives makes us richer.  Instead I shut down despite myself.  Moving away from this is part of my healing process, I know. 

I am happy to say there are also people who defy categorization. These are the people who are in my life because they want to be, they like me, and political affiliations aren’t a big part of the picture. With these people I can find myself jabbering away. I talk about my classes, my thoughts, my opinions and my fears. I ask them about themselves. I’m hungry to know. Sometimes we can be silent together and it’s totally fine. I can tell them if I need something, and I can count on them to value me even though they see my weaknesses. They see the good stuff, too. 

So who the hell am I?  Identity is actually an issue that has plagued me all my life. When I was in school I wasn’t there to learn. I was there to figure out what was expected and then meet those expectations. I was pretty good it. I had a great gpa, and I developed the capacity to morph into whoever I was expected to be. I didn’t know this then, but I learned how to do that at home. Mom needed the emotional support of a husband. He was emotionally absent, so I filled in for him. She needed one person with whom she could be herself, so I became her safe place. Dad needed a dependable employee, and an intermediary with Mom when they had misunderstandings.  I figured out how to meet those needs, too. If I didn’t have a particular role to fill I crept back into myself and didn’t share much because I didn’t know who I actually was. This made being with other people generally exhausting because if I was with more than one person in a social setting I couldn’t possibly adapt to all the expectations on my radar, and once again I fell into silence.

How do we figure out who we are?  I think it’s supposed to happen during childhood, but what if it doesn’t?  How do we keep our footing and remain grounded in our general attributes, values and beliefs while maintaining the social complexity to adapt to varying parameters?  It’s perfectly healthy for there to be a teacher and non-teacher version of myself. It’s much like playing a theater role. The rest of my plasticity is a little too much. 

We’re all allowed to have our own opinions. People of good faith and intelligence come to different conclusions. That’s reality, and part of why we need community. We need people who will stand up for what they believe and humbly listen to those who differ, without losing grip of who they are. I want to be one of those people. I’m learning how to be one of those people. I allow others to have their own opinions. I need to extend this grace to myself. That seems, after all that I’ve written, to be key. And being who others need me to be is totally different than being me and meeting the needs that I can in a healthy way. Maybe I need some boots. Maybe that’s why I have so many boots!  I’m ready to stomp around in my own skin, express myself and be. I hope you are, too. The world needs both of us.