"When will you consider yourself a woman", he asked, peering thoughtfully at me. When will I consider myself..wasn't I? The question as I see it is a matter of my biggest and most ingrained problems: that for as long as I can remember I have heard, yet failed to heed the call "Nosce te ipsum"- "know thyself".
As I understand it is a profound crisis of self. Years and years have passed since I first awakened to my position in life, and my person but for some reason I find myself facing the same questions I did as an adolescent. Though I have been granted the gifts of time and experience, I do not feel empowered or reassured in myself as I thought I most assuredly would. I ask myself, were to now?A And more to the point:who is the me that awaits the end of this seemingly infinite journey? I replay these questions again and again- aud-nausium they remind me that I am no closer to self- actualization than when I began.
These are first-world problems, I realize.
And yet when he asks me this, I smile, that sad slow smile I have grown to hate. It seems to make sense that the person I am is ever left smiling--ever with a touch of irony. It makes sense that this smirk be reflected self-parody and wit. If hell is a bitter black think, I feel that even now some of it must be in my smirk.
No comments:
Post a Comment