Ticky Tacky Little Boxes

It hit me broadside: the blinding question of who I am, and who I should be.

I ran to Lolita, and in rushed, anxious whispers, asked: Who am I? Who should I be? Usually I feel fine in my own skin, but right now I want to wiggle out of it and run away. Am I really ok?

It had to do with my age, and shaking someone’s categories up, and them not knowing what box to put me in, and usually I quite enjoy doing that to people, but this time, for whatever reason, I didn’t.

So Lolita told me some nice words and hugged me, which usually puts most anything into rights again, and I’ve stayed in my own skin, and not moulted as I was thinking of doing.

Instead, I’m noticing grey hair appearing on my head at an amazing rate. It’s a fascinating phenomenon.

5 thoughts on “Ticky Tacky Little Boxes

  1. Oh from one English language teacher to another… Anita I really would love to chat with you one day soon again – reading this made tears come… maybe because just the other day I did something very similar.

    I can’t believe I didn’t pack your book when I left, it would been a gem to have right now. I think that’s the next thing I will request to be posted by my dear mother.

    Take care dear friend

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