When people talk about finding themselves, I wonder what it means.
Is there one me, and one you, and if we dig deep enough, we come to know what it is and can live authentically like that for the rest of our lives? Or are there different mes and different yous at different stages of our lives?
I’ve thought about this a lot lately because I started the year wanting to ‘find myself’ – to work out the things that made me happy, so I could do more of them.
And it turns out that the things that make me happy are nothing like the things I spent most of my life doing.
I love walking in the fields with my dog and painting and baking and gardening and organizing my home and I just finished hand-stitching new cushion covers. Except for the painting, none of these are things I would have done 20 years ago when I was busy building a successful career and when I thought that the pinnacle of achievement was to be my company’s only female Vice President.
If you told me now that I had to be a Vice President and work 10 hours a day and deal with stress and office politics and commuting, I would say there isn’t enough money in the world to make me do it.
So was the me of 20 years ago a fake? Or have I just changed?
I suspect it’s a little bit of both.