Who Am I, Really?

I've been wondering about this recently.  Who am I?  Really?   

One might expect that I'd have some sort of answer to that after 34 years, but I must confess that sometimes I'm not really sure.

I could tell you what I think of myself  - and knowing myself as I do, I should warn you that this would probably be inaccurate.  On some days I am filled with confidence bordering on arrogance.  I am smarter, quicker, sharper, and measurably more clever than those around me.  And handsome too.  Other days I am convinced that I am a sham.  A phoney. A hypocrite fearfully wating to be exposed in my lies and depravity.

Obviously, I am not a reliable witness.  So to answer this question 'who am I, really?' I could turn to the perception of others.  But this, too,  is complicated.

Depending on who you ask, I am either a trouble making rabble-rouser intent on bucking anyone in a position of authority and should not be entrusted with any responsibilities or I am a warm and compassionate leader with exemplary qualities that make me a fine Christian role model.  Of those divergent opinions, I am much more conditioned to hearing the former.  One person with a measure of influence on my position and status described me as a 'psychopathic deviant' (his very words). 

I recently had a performace review with my Divisional Commander.  As the day of the review approached I became increasingly nervous and apprehensive.  I was used to these reveiews being confrontational and acrimonious.  I was used to attacks and condemnation disguised as a performance review.  But this one was surprisingly and refreshingly different.  My DC said very kind things, gave me higher scores than I anticipated and shared encouraging comments.  I was shocked. 

I don't think that I've changed all that much between these reviews, yet the gulf between them was immense.  I was told that I am percieved as a good teacher, an efficient officer and as being a kind and patient father to my two children.  Where did this come from?  Why am I now percieved so differently?

In addition to this surprising review, another unexpected comment left me stunned. 

Before dating and marrying my wife, I, for a short time, dated her college rooomate.  Funny story there, but now's not the time for that one.  Anyway.  She has for the past several years been a missionary in central Asia. Currently she is back here in the states for while and so she took the opportunity to spend an afternoon with my wife to reconnect and share experiences and memories and whatever it is that women do when revisiting old friends.  During that visit she shared with my wife that she measures potential suitors by how they compare to me.   Yikes.  I don't know what to do with that. I know the mistakes I've made as a husband and as a father.  I can't imagine anyone using me as a yardstick.

I don't know how to be as good as people think I am.  And I don't know why some people think I am as awful as they do.  I don't trust my opinions of myself - they're overinflated in either direction. So...

Who am I, really? 

I'm still working on that one.  Ask me again in another 34 years.



This essay, by the way, should not be construed as a sort of passive-aggressive attempt to fish out compliments and encouragements from freinds and family.  It is what it is and nothing more.