What Defines Me?

What if our lives weren't lived, silently, loudly, apart from the world and yet constantly in it...what if our lives were, instead, written??

What if the things that we say and do were recorded in a book? What if your story was actually a story - would you be the villain, the bully, the controller making things happen? Would you be the one lost in speculation and thought, filling pages with your questions and answers? What character would you be?

Okay, what if your life wasn't a book? Not a story, not really anything...but a life. Yet your life had a room dedicated to you. Just one room. Every person's room was different - some small, others huge, some without any windows. And across the walls, scrawled in different colors of ink and paint, were words. Words that you wrote. Words that just screamed you. Words that you thought in your head.

Words that you thought, but never said.

What if someone could peek into the room, after you were gone, and see you in full force, like a movie character on a screen? It was something to return to, over and over again, and just look and admire and learn...

My reason for creating this idea of a room that equals a person is to try and discover something (haha! my D word!). That something is this: What makes you you? What makes me me?

If you took away all the defining physical characteristics (blond hair, gray-green eyes, skinny arms, fair skin), what would I leave behind that would be me? Is it the way I think? Well, if that's it, then I'm rather put-out; you see, there are some people who think like me. Alright, not exactly like me (ha, I'm sure no one is quite that psychotic), but if you took each of my different trains of thought separately, I'm sure there would be another person to make each one up to.

Okay. Let's hypothetically say that it isn't just our thoughts that make us us. What's left over? Our personalities. A personality is "the visible aspect of one's character as it impresses others."

Wait. Our personalities are defined by how people see us? For some reason that is very disturbing. So then, according to worldly opinions on the matter, WHO WE ARE IS DEFINED BY THE WORLD.

Sometimes, by what we do. Mostly by what we wear, where we work, and who we know. It's all subjective to others ever-shifting opinions. Where do our own opinions come in? In defining others.

What a crazy, silly circle.

Cut out personality and thoughts. And physical features. What's left is fashion, hobbies/talents/skills, paper certificates that are supposed to mean something ("you have graduated from such and such a high school"), your friends, and how much money you have.

Is that really what describes me? Am I Caitlin because I write words all over the place and I am relatively poor? I can't decide what style I like best, so I dress both punk and vintage. Does THAT make me Caitlin?

I've always wanted to be me...plus something else (see the I AM NUMBER FOUR blog entry). But the thing is, I can only ever be me, even if I try to be something else, even if I try to change.

I'm still Caitlin. Still here.

The real answer to all these questions is sitting right in front of my face. I've been staring at it - and not wanting to see it. Because it's too simple. And...I've been seeing things through the world's eyes lately (a very bad habit, I know). I keep reaching for these insignificant things that everyone else is going for and I think I need them.

I don't.

Because I have God.

He defines me. He defines all of us. HE MADE US.

It's annoying, that it's so easy, so dependent upon only Him...and yet it's also a relief. So calming, so perfect, so right. And I guess I needed to hear that. Needed to think through all of this and realize that ME is whoever He wants me to be.

I am His.

That's who Caitlin is.