Hi Suzanne,
Thank you. I am glad you liked the metaphor. Searching for my identity has occupied my thoughts since childhood. What a journey of discovery it has turned out to be. I have been vulnerable, without knowing it, to abusive people over the years, but I have also met wonderful people and learnt so much. These days I can recognize four fragments of me. One I call my trauma self. Then there is the flirtatious little girl and when I am her and she is me I am a completely different person. I'm almost high. There's my conceptual thinker self, which is so out there I have little memory of what she says but I feel powerful, exalted, when I am her. The me in the foreground has grown out of the dutiful daughter. She is the practical, resourceful mother. With her, has grown the observer, and it is the observer that has learnt to know these other me's. So who I am is the total of all these fragments. And the challenge is to manage the whole lot of it so that each fragment is not ignored, has their needs met, and is given opportunities for expression. Which requires a great deal of reflection and introspection. I'm my own hard work. And I fail, often. I have days when I wake up and start to cry. Days when I'm way too hyper-aroused. Days when I'm low, days when I'm in complete despair. I wonder if this makes sense to you.
What I have decided for myself is to place creative expression at the centre of my being, and allow all my fragments to coalesce around it. Because I'm sure that creativity is what is crushed by early childhood abuse. Play, sing, dance, run, paint, write, whatever, it all comes down to experiencing joy.
My very best wishes to you too,
Scarlet