“Who are you?” Is the hardest question I know.

"Who are you?" it should be simple.

Name. Age. Job. Done.

But it's never simple for me, because that question isn't asking for facts. it's asking: Which version of me do I show you?

I'm not one thing

I'm different with my friends than I am with my family. Different at work than I am alone at 2am with these thoughts creeping in.

I'm loud sometimes, quiet other times. Confident one day then doubting every decision I've ever made in my life the next.

So which one is the real me? All of them? None of them?

I've performed for as long as I can think of, for years I thought I had to earn my place. "Be useful, be easy, be smart, be quiet, be everything I need you to be that way you will be liked"

I've gotten so good at this act, at this point I might just win a Grammy.

Naming myself feels a bit…final

like saying "I am this" feels like I'm also saying " I am not that."

I mean what if I change my mind next month or even by the end of the day? I can evolve in less than 24 hours so what if I outgrew the answer I give each time I'm asked?

So I've avoided the question. I've laughed it of and I've given safe answers. but the truth is I'm still learning and unlearning, I'm a work in progress, and that's allowed.

Maybe "who I am" isn't something I declare. Maybe it's something I live for. In the choices I make and in who I stay soft for as well as in the moments I choose myself. So if anyone would ask me "who are you?" right now. My answer would be "I'm me, the version of me that's here in this moment and I'm allowed to become someone new tomorrow."