It’s Me

On Saturday nights the hubby goes to bed a little early since he has to be at work so early on Sundays. Tonight I came in maybe a half hour later and went to shut the windows. The noise must have startled him because he quickly reacted (albeit half-asleep) as if to protect us or maybe just in utter confusion as to why his sleep was being interrupted. Without thinking I responded, “It’s me! It’s me!”

It’s me.

Anyone else feel the magnitude of that statement? I didn’t say my job title or salary. I didn’t mention where I lived or what I was from. I didn’t proclaim my goals or dreams. I didn’t list my uncomfortable flaws or doubts. I didn’t even say my name.

Yet for some reason when we meet someone, that’s where we start. When we don’t know the answers to those things or aren’t happy with them, we begin to question who we really are. We put an unacceptable weight on things that don’t actually define us. Take any one of those things away, say my job or my dreams. I’d still be me.

I told him essentially nothing without even realizing. Yet at the same time, I said more than I ever have to someone at a networking event. I can only be me.

It’s me.

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