Really just being me

Was bemused as I listened to a client talk about online personas and the “Online Me”.

On the Internet, I’m fairly comfortable because what you see there is me. Unembellished, with no pretense or affectations. I prefer not to use handles and when it comes to my online identity, I want the first thing that comes up when I’m Googled to be something that came from me.

Now, in real life, it’s slightly more complicated.

The Internet strips me of my facade and lets me bare what I am at the core. Something that I can only define with one word: me.

In real life, too many people know or see different sides of me.

To Irene, Anis and my juniors, I’m the dotty, overly but funnily frank grandma in a 30-year old body.
To PR reps in my past life, I was the brutally direct, cold glacier that newbies quailed to climb.

To my closest friends, I am the one who is accepting of their foibles as much as they are accepting of mine.

To my lovers or significant others, I am the Stepford wife who would clean for them, wait for them, put up with all the crap I get from them and suffer silently till I explode.

I am different things to different people and while I do have a multiple faceted personality, I also try too hard to be what I think they want me to be.

My editor persona is not something my friends will see. She came about as a survival mechanism to get through the stresses of publishing. Editor Erna is insular, prone to keeping her own counsel (keeping other people in the dark in the process), authoritarian, scary when angry, suffers no fools and the only thing that makes her tolerable is the fingernail’s worth of writing talent.

I thought I was comfortable in my own skin. What I really am, though, is someone who tries to change her skin too often. I want that to change.

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