Who am I?????

First, I'd like to share this poem that I recently read and with which I immediately identified very strongly for several reasons. It's written in a romantic context but I feel that it applies to all areas of life.

different

Do not dilute this for me.  

Do not tell me, again, that I am special, that I am different.  

I am a variant, but I am not different.  

And for your intents and purposes,

I am the same.  

My heart breaks the same.  My ego bruises the same.  And my hopes shatter all the same.

Do not kiss my forehead or push my hair away.   Do not dilute the softness of my skin, the thickness of my hair.  Do not take the snakebite mark on my neck, do not take the scars from my knees.  

These are not yours to notice.  

You cannot love my voice, and you cannot admire the strength of my legs.  You are not entitled to the late-night adventure stories I dream, nor the early morning pep talks I whisper to comrades unseen.  

None of these are yours, and you cannot miss them.  

Stop complimenting my shoes, my earrings, my style.  Stop noticing me walking by, stop stopping to say hi.  Stop looking at me like you know me, stop pretending that it hurts to know you hurt me.

You are a puddle, a pothole, a scuff, a scrape.  You are fixed and forgotten with a wash and some tape.

I am not different to you.  But to someone, somewhere, I am.  And that’s not something I can let you dilute.

I am not fractured by you, because you are nothing new.  You are the same heart with the same start and the same predictable reason to depart.  And the fiction you weave is garbage.

Are you unsure?  Are you lost?  Have you met someone better, or just someone else?  

Is she different, is she special?  Does she know what you said to me?  

“I’ve never felt this way before, never imaged this was behind the door.  Never thought this would happen to me.”  

Then you must be slow, forgetful, what is it that you know?  Because I’ve met women like me, and they’ve met children like you, and this is really nothing new.

Do not water me down with words that mean nothing, because the little things you take from me mean something.  

These are not your freckles to kiss, or your whimsical laugh to miss.  These are my superior puzzle skills, and my harmonious trills.  That’s my calm and my speed, and that’s my ability to take the lead.  That’s my dislike of cottage cheese and my unreasonable fear of falling on my keys.  

You do not get to comment, to like, to share, to remember, to care, because these things belong to me and I’m much more special than you’ll ever be to me.

Do not dilute the things that make me, because someday I’ll be special to someone, and he’ll be special to me.

THE END

Here are a few of the objects in my home that show visitors who I am:

1. BOOKS.

I would not be who I am today if I had not grown up amongst piles and piles and piles of books. My parents' strong anti-television ways had a strong impression upon me, and I appreciate that they showed me how amazing it is to gain perspective and new experiences through books. I was raised as an observant Jew, and the one of the most important values that was instilled in me through my Jewish education was to never stop asking questions and exploring and delving deeper into things that interested me or meant something to me. This is one of my defining characteristics and something I'm very proud of and grateful for.

2. VEGETABLES VEGETABLES VEGETABLES.

I love food, you guys. I have very strong convictions about environmentalism, animal (human or otherwise) rights, globalization, and the responsibility that we all have to live as peacefully and as considerately and as thoughtfully as possible. Because of my beliefs, I am a vegan, so I spend all my days chowing down on delicious greens (and other things, of course, but mostly greens). 

4. ART

My parents are both artists, and so in addition to my love of reading they also gave me my love of artistic expression. This particular piece was done by the amazing folks at the Beehive Collective, and it's called "The True Cost of Coal". It illustrates the harmful effects of coal mining on all different types of life on earth, and on the earth itself. While this is a style of art that has a very literal meaning/purpose, I also appreciate more abstract or unclear types of art. I feel that it is extremely difficult for me to express myself in non-verbal ways(through music or dance or visual art of all sorts), but I'm constantly trying to push myself to explore these outlets for creativity.