Sunday Newscape Magazine

“Don’t compromise yourself. You are all you’ve got.”- Janis Joplin

Before we ever drew our first breath, we had already been labeled by everyone who knew we were coming. Whether son or daughter, or grandchild or godchild, niece or nephew, brother or sister, we came into the world with a role to play for each person in our lives.

Think about it. You’ve played more roles than most of the members of the Screen Actors’ Guild! As an average Jane, myself, I am or have been: a daughter, sister, granddaughter, great granddaughter, friend, student, congregant, consumer, voter, woman, aunt, American, wife, ex-wife!, employee, lover, business owner, tax payer, team member, artist, author, pet owner, photographer, home owner, singer, debtor, consultant, reporter, teacher, broker, customer, writer, presenter, etc., etc. I’m sure there are many more I’ve totally forgotten about. And your list is undoubtedly as exhaustive as mine.

Each and every one of these roles I’ve played or am currently playing hand me a set of rules and expectations for how I need to “be.” Things I can do or can’t; shouldn’t do or should. Expectations that have nothing to do with who I am...just the way I need to act fit the accepted profile of that box. Of course, there can be exceptions to an interpretation of the role, but the gap between what is and isn’t generally allowed is usually very, very small.

It’s not unusual to get so caught up in meeting the demands of our roles that we lose track of who we are when we aren’t striking a pose. I always find it mildly amusing, and ultimately tragic, that when asked who we are, we always respond with a role. But, it’s not surprising since we tend to define ourselves by what we DO - which is the practice of the role.

For some reason, today, all my roles feel constricting and regimented. Yet, I know it’s mostly because of the way in which I’ve chosen to play my part. Or at least how I felt I had to behave to satisfy the role’s rules. And the weight of my recognition is heavy. I feel that I’ve lost me...somewhere under layers of costumes and piles of scripts.

I think I’ll go for a walk. It’s semi-sunny and the breeze is gusting enough to, perhaps, blow the shoulds away. Maybe somewhere in the fresh air I’ll breathe my own scent and remember the me beneath all the roles. Wanna join me?

© 2008 Karen Wright all rights reserved http://wrightminded.com