Mariama Reed

I have often dreamed of who I am. In my dreams I am an imaginative creative person that speaks only in witty comments and is everyone's best friend. In my dreams I lead an effortless life and am famous in every sense of the word. I am not that person I dream of. After nearly 20 years of life I could not blatantly tell another person who I am. It does not take a lifetime for someone to figure out who they are but, sometimes it takes longer than that someone has lived so far.

I'm in a struggle between the life I want or am expecting and the life I have. What I want is either not clearly defined or I am too afraid to pursue it. I swing to and fro yet can never reach. Being as observant as I am does not help my situation. At most times it is obvious that I'm not shy or unsociable however, at any given point I can retract so deeply while viewing everyone else that one may get that impression. In a most humble sense I am extraordinary at reading people. I feel like I see things in others that may not be apparent to their peers. Naturally this is a very amusing pastime of mine- watching people- but it is a double-edged sword. I gather insight into everyone else yet remain unclear of myself. I could explain the things I like to do, the places I like to go, or how I spend my time yet none of these things define me. It would be a joy to say that my dreams define me but they do not and most of them are so wildly unrealistic that it would seem silly to speak of them. I do spend a lot of my time dreaming though. A lot of that time is spent wishing for things in the future that I am too afraid to prepare for now.

I enjoy writing and expressing myself through writing but have recently realized how crippling my need to present a perfect image can be. I struggled, throughout this semester especially, with my insecurity of my own writing or thoughts. I have only just begun to cope with the idea of a product shrouded in unevolved thought followed by the lesson of "revision" and human mistake or what have you. To not deviate from my point of feeling incomplete, I hold myself to such a high standard so that I may appear complete to those I come across. I would not want to present something imperfect for it would be too much like myself. I am not an insecure person. I am not lost. I fear failure to such a high degree that it is keeping me from my own potential. I suppose it is natural to allow your fears to hold you back. I suppose I will not truly understand m