Who Am I, Really?

Today my thoughts kept circling around one question who am I? It feels strange because everyone seems to have a different answer about me. To some, I am a joker. To others, I am wise. A few may find me boring, while some think I am a hustler chasing life too fast. At times, I am seen as an introvert, and at other times as an extrovert. Some say I talk too much, some say I am hurt, and a few even see me as a headache or a burden. How can one person hold so many roles? And if all these roles are just perceptions, then who is the real me?

I also wonder whether I am searching for something in others that I lack in myself, or if I am simply projecting what I want the world to notice. If money was not important, who would I be? If fame was not a goal, what would remain of me?

Am I truly bothered by people’s opinions, or is it just a fear I carry? The more I think about it, the more I feel that my identity cannot be found in the eyes of others. It must be found in the quiet moments when I stop performing.

I came across a simple word in a book why. That one word unsettled me. Why do I chase? Why do I compare? Why do I wear masks? Perhaps the journey of self discovery begins not with finding more answers but with asking deeper questions.

Maybe the truth is that I don’t need to define myself completely. Maybe I just need to be honest in living, learning, and growing. And perhaps that itself is enough of an answer to the question who am I?

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