I remember those little quizzes we took back in elementary school. Our labels, our identities. Who we wanted to be or become. How we hoped the world saw us. How we ensure ourselves.
I remember writing’ creative’ because that felt like the one true word for the style I couldn’t stop writing or doodling in my margins, or constantly was designated the describing parts of my own group projects, or loved art class the most. The other two words were harder. I had always been an athletic kid, but did I want that label as one of the only other descriptions of myself? Or what about’ funny’? I wanted to be likeable. Or’ smart’? I wanted to put my brains first. Was’ pretty’ too conceited for a fourth grader?’ Short’ too superficial? Was I a bad person if I didn’t write’ kind’?
I remember struggling with those quizs, with those personality exams, with just about anything that asked me to figure out the person I was and wanted to be. How I saw myself–physically, emotionally–in comparison to the way people I loved, or liked, or knew, or even disliked felt about me was
For the longest period I just wanted to be noticed. Then I wanted to be liked. Then it felt like I was constantly changing my image to fit the picture around me.
Then I wanted to be strong, but even now I struggle with what’ strength’ means–does it mean you are resilient or unapproachable, independent or intimidating? Can I be powerful, but delicate, too?
The more I think of my identity, the more I feel like I’m a mix of things, like perhaps humans aren’t meant to be categorized so strongly. Maybe we’re just supposed to feel and care and be, and not have to understand what it all means.
But if I were to categorize myself, if I were to slap a sticker to my chest, and say’ this is me, ’ there’s merely a single word I’d want it to say:
Above all else, in every style that I live and love, I want to be passionate .
I want to be the various kinds of person who exhales authenticity in everything she does. Who, from the moment you satisfy her, is filled with light and energy and exudes that so overwhelmingly, you can’t help but feel it in your bones when she leaves.
I want to be the kind of person whose giggle sunlights up a room, whose smile brings one across your face unconsciously. The various kinds of person who never half-does or half-loves, but pours her entire heart into everything and everyone.
I want to be the various kinds of person who has a spark for life–who wants to grab what she can from the earth and genuinely feel it in her fingertips. Who takes opportunities and opportunities. Who speaks her intellect and lets her voice hear anything. Who doesn’t give up, or hold back, but lives with such happiness in her heart that she doesn’t step on anyone else’s dreams on the way to reaching her own.
I want to be passionate. To love with abandon. To take on projects and schemes with force-out. To smile. To dedicate. To have a spirit that shines with care for the world, and who brings good energy wherever she wanders.
I don’t only want to be strong or athletic, defined by my muscular construct or the route I physically move. I don’t merely want to be beautiful, appreciated for lookings or outward beauty which doesn’t come close to my self-worth. I don’t merely want to be labeled for my heart, for the route I love, because that doesn’t take into consideration my mind and the route I think.
I merely want to be passionate. Because passion is what pours out into every part of me, what indicates my lust for life and represents my eagerness to grab and feel and do and appreciate everything that I’m surrounded by .
So if I were to label myself now, there is only one word that I want to claim as my own. A term that speaks to my creative side, and how I can’t stop making art and writing my heart to a page. A word that speaks to my they are able to love, and how I only can’t walk away from people or leave when they need me the most. A term that speaks to my physical self–always going, always pushing, always moving at a 1000% pace. A term that speaks to my tenderness, but strength. My freedom, but vulnerability. My power, but delicacy. My multiple layers and pieces that stimulate me,
Give me a personality test now, and it would be easy; there’s nothing else that I want to define me. I am proud to be a passionate female.
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