Who am I

 

 

      "Who am I ?" I often find myself occupied by this thought, yet the answer is far from simple. Sure, I remember all the basic facts that make up about me, but do I truly understand myself? To my reader, my name is Riza Mae Tano, 14 years old turning 15 this 24th of October. The 3rd child of my family. I dislike celebrating my birthday. For some reason, it reminds me that nothing in life is truly permanent. Every time my birthday passes by, every people I know go. "Cherish your teenage years" they say, but why do I feel like an adult stuck in a teenager's body? I long to stop time, to capture and preserve those moments when I am at my happiest. Adulthood is scary, a moment ago I was just throwing tantrums about a toy I didn't get and now I'm contemplating on what path should I take. 

        Again, who am I? Let's start with my interests. Childhood is synonymous with deep affection with colors. I grew as a person who loves to express her innermost feeling through drawing. Drawing is my form of escape. It's a process that requires time and dedication, but you place your trust in it, and with every stroke, you journey towards fulfillment. Another interest I have is studying. Every student aims this: academic validation. Growing up, I've had the privilege of receiving many awards, certificates, and medals. The weight of these medals around my neck brings a sense of joy, almost serving as a testament to my identity. Indeed, without these tokens of recognition, I am incomplete. I like studying. Studying is more than just a task; it's my coping mechanism, a solace that keeps me grounded and focused. Although I have short attention span, I like watching movies and series. I love my dog. I love the sound of the rain especially when I'm sleeping. I love loving. I long to love and to be loved but I am unlovable. 

    

 The monologue of Jo March from Little Women, a character I admire captures my sentiments perfectly: "I want to be loved. And I know that's not the same as loving someone I know. I just feel like, I just feel like women, they have, they have minds and they have souls as well as just hearts and they've got talent and they've got ambition as well as just beauty and I am so sick of people saying that love is all a woman is fit for. I am so sick of it". The mirror reflects my external self but it's the internal layers of me that remains a mystery. "Hurt people hurt people" I believe this statement is true. Nothing in the world is too much kindness. We all tend to hurt people, but it doesn't mean we can't stop it. I may have experienced being hurt but that didn't hinder me from showing respect. However, the aftermath always left me questioning myself. Like the earth, I felt the feeling ran deep that it cares my being. Unknowingly, I felt it until I couldn't feel it anymore. Like the earth, the outermost layer may look fine but deep inside is a burning pit of emotions. 

 Gratitude is what I feel as they have sculpted a part of myself for who I am today. Everything happens for a reason. You just wake up feeling a sense of contentment and it doesn't bother you as it was anymore. Having to change means having to describe myself better. I began to understand that self-love are the stepping stones of what they call a "healthy" relationship" including the one I have with myself. So, who am I? There's still more of me to come. I am still a work in progress. A tapestry of experiences. With every step I take along, I am slowly discovering the answer to that question: Who am I? 

REFERENCE/S:

(n.d). Accounts.google.com, Retrieved September 29, 2023, from

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