We can be very different people at different times, yet we rarely ask ourselves, "Who Am I?"
This is part of the journey of my Life Coaching Program for Creative Women and Men.

Below is what Sharon Hawkins wrote in answer to this. I want to share it with all of you. Sharon wrote this piece very quickly, not certain at all what she was writing, and she had no idea of its power as well as its beauty, until I read it back to her.

I am the quiet little girl learning the secret of how to become invisible.
It is an art, a secret the angels want to teach me. They know, heaven knows, for now I must disappear in my mind, in my books. I live on the island with Robinson Crusoe, I am so happy with the Swiss Family Robinson, and am hopeful for rescue but certainly at home On the Island of the Blue Dolphins.


I learned early that my feelings took up too much space at home and that it was expected that I would dispose of them in a way that would not inconvenience anyone. My family tripped on my fear as if it were a sharp plastic game piece that I had accidentally left out. “Put that goddamn piece of fear where it belongs before I throw the whole game (i.e, me) out,” bellowed my father. And sadness, well sadness was like a high heel shoe with the heel broken off. On the one hand it is a shoe but you won’t get far with it in my family. So the landfill in my mind begins to grow, piling high with my junk feelings and the stinky stench of secrets.

I built an internal dam against my tears...
But childhood has allowed me to become a marvelous structural engineer. I have built an internal dam against my tears. And now as an adult I realize that this dam of mine has been shored up over the years, made strong to hold back my landfill of feelings. I’ve used the rough cement of broken relationships, the slippery muddy material of betrayal, the blocks of anger and rage, the steel rebar of regret to form who I am.

Yet, somewhere in there, I am still Shen – my mother’s nickname for the skinny long legged silent little girl. I am Romane a/k/a lettucehead, my sister’s mean chanted nickname for my awful middle name.

Now those dammed up tears, after years of accumulation, have formed a lake, sometimes choppy, sometimes smooth and I sail small boats of exploration of feelings across them. I am in my Christopher Columbus mode, beseeching my ego, Queen Isabella to finance this exploration with some tolerance and compassion. So far she is stingy. I send out my three ships, the Pinta of Pain, the Nina of Dreams, and the Santa Maria of acceptance. Queen Isabella wants the world returned to her, the whole Sharon. But I know that this will be a very long journey and the Queen may be disappointed. There are many discoveries that will make us rich without the weight of gold coin but rich in spirit may not be her thing. And treasures, why don’t even go there with the Queen’s expectations. She is expecting things like creative, brave and honest to be returned in polished measure.

I stand as the lighthouse in my story.
At age 54, I have cast my sails across my ocean of memories, lies and scary truths, knowing that there are also times so tender and love so raw that I flinch to think about them. I’m praying for calm seas but am expecting a hurricane. I guess the best I can do on this journey of exploration is to stand as the lighthouse in my story, casting a strong beam of light calling my fleet of Pain, Dreams and Self Acceptance home.
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"Who Am I?" It's a provocative question.
Ask yourself that question and put pen to paper. Feel free to post your writing here...

Explore my Life Coaching for Creative Women and Men.