Imposter. How many variations of this role do I embody? Korean Imposter. American Fake. City Dweller Pretender. Almost Earned Doctorate Degree Counterfeit. Mother Without Her Own Mother Phony. Bisexual Woman in Committed Relationship with a Man Masquerader. Bisexual Woman of Color in Committed Relationship with a White Man Double Trickster. Creative Writer and Artist ConWoman.
These are the titles that trip through my thoughts on a regular basis in my search for my identity. My life is filled with this search for personal identity. Belonging. Connections. In between the lapses of faith ~ the faith that says firmly without flinching that I am who I am, nothing more nothing less ~ that is when the voices of judgment and comparison grow the loudest. Those times and times like this, when I grow close to achieving a hard-worked-for-goal or impulsively accept a sincere compliment, the accusations grow loud. Clamor. fight for the mic.
I have spent a life time of staving off the voice that chants imposter fake fraud pretender trickster deceiver. I am more than those nouns. I am me. I am my own Real Deal.