who am I?

I got this strange idea when I got out of the shower a few days back. I was over analyzing something, like I usually am, and I stopped for a second. It took me a second to come to the conclusion that I don’t know who I am. And then lots and lots of thoughts rushed to be acknowledged.

I am a daughter and a granddaughter at the same time. I can see my grandma’s eyes when I look into the mirror and my mom’s freckles. I can see my dad’s dimple and I can distinguish my other grandma’s empathy. I am a sister. A shitty one at times, and the best one oh so rarely. I am sometimes a cousin or an aunt or a niece, but I don’t really get along with my extended family. I am a friend. A very good one for some and an average one for others. I am a best friend and I am an acquaintance. I am a teacher for that neighbor who couldn’t learn math. I am a therapist for a lot of people. I am an engineer.  A good one, but one who doesn’t want to pursue this field. I am a fast learner and a fast talker. I am quite often hard to follow. My ideas are rushing through my mouth to get out and make themselves noticed. I am a thinker. Correction. We all know, I am an over thinker. I am motherly with my friends and I am empathetic. I am a worrier who can understand the biggest asshole there is.

I am happy. I am mad. I am sad. I am angry. I am ecstatic. I am melancholic. I am moody. And everything at once. I am hungry. I am thirsty. I am satisfied. I am picky. I am unfulfilled. I am peaceful. I am an introvert. I am talkative. I am not good at socializing. I am friendly. I am evil. I am mean. I am helpful. I am a girlfriend. And I am a one night stand. I am that girl in the club who will go home with you. I am that girl in the bar whom you cannot pick up. I am flirty. I am intelligent. I am scared. I am complex. I am difficult. But I am a dreamy wife. For that person who’ll be able to see me as a whole with my flaws and my qualities. I am fucking great. And I am the absolute worst.

I am giving. I am driven. I am dreamy. I am an over achiever. I am my own worst enemy and critique. I am my own therapist. I am a singer. I am a writer. I am an artist. But I cannot draw even if my life would depend on it. I am the sum of my mistakes, my wrongs, my failures. I am the sum of my awards, my praises, my gains. I am the sum of every single thought that I had and I will have. I am soulful. I am decent. I am educated. I am strong. I’ll never back away from pain. I am heartless. I am a laughter and a tear, all in one. I am a girl, a woman and a lady. I don’t have any vices, but I’m vicious. I am your worst nightmare. I am your strongest desire. I am complex. I am deep. You could fall, and never go back. You could look, but couldn’t see me. I am transparent. I am honest. I am straightforward. I am shy. I am a drop of water. I am a freaking ocean.

I am an idea. I am my hopes and dreams and fears. I am a soul full of ideas. I am my future, my past, but most of all, my present. Who the fuck am i?