On Yassy’s recommends I read this first blog posting from an amaziang and critically important writer: she makes me want to revisit seventh grade and grab that speed-reading paperback and wade through it again because I’ll never have time to chew the entire banquet this posting “Genuine Fake” presents in Our True Lies’ blog.
Who are you? Who am I?
Your name was given to you by someone else. Your gender, your birthplace, and your race were all given to you. Your job is transient at best.
Inevitably, when anyone starts sitting in silence with their eyes closed in meditation, Who Am I? is a question that will arise. If I’m honest, though, it has always been a question for me. It’s one of the questions that made me wonder if I was crazy. Paradoxically, in philosophy and psychology, it’s the very question that keeps you sane.
I am a mother of 3 amazing and frustrating kids, I was working full time, I have a handful of friends, [insert standardized blurbs here]. To each category, I had a different set of filters and personality. People always tell me how much they love how real and genuine I am. At the same time, in the…
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