I have no known heritage to speak of past my extended family, lacking ancient traditions to follow and cultural traits to inherit. Some people feel lost unable to claim a lineage to Irish holidays or Italian recipes. I feel free. For I am an American female, unable to be defined.
People look at me and see what they want to see. If they don’t know me, they default to the most convenient definition, that I’m dumb because I’m attractive. If they do know me, their perception depends upon what facets of my life they’re aware of, which are often few and one-dimensional, if any at all.
I could explain myself until I was blue in the face, but translating my je ne sais quoi into words is an exhausting and time-consuming process that often leaves the listener either overwhelmed or convinced I am being disingenuous. Therefore, I usually allow others to think as they want until I need them to know otherwise. Life has taught me that being underestimated can be a handy tool at times. But today, I will do my best to share.
I am a little bit of the best parts of everything, the sum of my favorite experiences, if you will. Open-minded and accepting, I’ve treated every minute of my existence as a learning opportunity. Exposing myself to a myriad of epically contrasting lifestyles and perspectives, I pick and choose the best qualities of the coolest people I know and incorporate those traits into my life, continuously evolving. There is nothing worse than being stagnant.
I speak in Technicolor. Unable to suppress the light that emanates from within me, men often proclaim that I am the most beautiful girl in the world. I am always alone at night.
In the past, people have called me a bartender, social worker, volunteer, and civil servant. An ice cream scooper, old-school vinyl turntablist, congressional campaign manager, and hippy guitar shop employee moonlighting as an undercover agent. I continue to be a classically-trained violinist, writer, sociologist, student of life, businesswoman, and political scientist who identifies as a fiscally conservative, socially progressive independent. More recently, I’ve become a former type-A, neurotic worrier who is now a world traveler and solo explorer living with a Namaste mindset.
I neither quit nor give up any of my pursuits. I simply conquer and move on.
To borrow from Saul Bellow, I am a first-class noticer. Understanding people immediately, I sense and often feel others’ emotions, expressed or concealed. I know what makes them tick, reading the strongest motivations and sacrosanct fears of the public printed across their faces in size 24 Times New Roman font. It is an innate clairsentient talent. A remarkably observant and intuitive empath, I am a phenomenal gift giver.
No one has ever taken the time to understand me as well as I do them.
Excellent at delayed gratification and parallel parking, I’m not so great at math and being selfish. Forever the skeptic and conspiracy theorist, underneath lies a romantic at heart. Possessing the ability to curse like a sailor doesn’t negate the fact that I will blush and lower my eyes demurely if paid a sincere compliment.
Although my impeccable sense of style can at times give me away as a closet fashionista, I have never cared for or valued material items. My methodical, research-minded brain is always yearning for and ingesting knowledge, yet lives and loves stoner comedies just as much as C-SPAN and Lord of the Rings.
I am a woman who can hold her own anywhere, anytime. Consider me a social chameleon. Respected throughout political and business circles, accepted at Three-Six Mafia concerts in East St. Louis, and kicking ass as Yoshi on Rainbow Road in the throes of a Nintendo Mario Kart tournament, I blend easily. Everyone feels like they know me. I put them at ease.
Time keeps on slipping into the future.
And so do I.
Most days, it feels something like this: