Who Are You?

Who are you they ask? Abby Lee Miller ask a dance student of hers, Mackenzie, who are you? Although the student’s mother was frustrated, in my opinion she seemed as if she didn’t understand the question because she only see’s the student as being associated with her sibling. But the question “Who are you?”, continued to resound in my head. Who are you? That’s a question that’s frequently asked in many different way. But do we really know who we are as we  continue to learn more and more about are ourselves as we grow and gain new experiences. So again I ask, “Who are you?” Is it only a question direct towards you or the world? Because the you know who you are? But do you really know who you are as a single individual, who can describe themselves without having the assistance of others dictate the positive and negative about you. Do you know who you are as a person for can give people a million different descriptions to make it only the person questioning you, see you as who you are, and not who they perceive you to be.

Who are you? I asked myself. I’m a person, an individual who speaks on paper more than she speaks her words. I’m a person who can show more passion in her writing as long as it takes for her to have her emotions released from her. I’m that individual who looks back on both the bad and the good, the same person who knows that there’s always going to be doubts, gains, and losses, made in live. The person who people seem not to notice the sacrifices given, because of age, or because of the judged age which is always a stretch who my actual age. I’m that one individual who can keep her word to her friends, but if her friends hurt her, she still has the respect to still give greetings on special occasions, and attempts to mend both the burned and broken bridges. The same person who has the courage filled with a hidden light that seems to only shine at night and not during the day, the individual, who only expresses herself through ink or pencil and paper instead of words through vocal communication. But vocals are always needed, so I tell myself never give up on talking, because people won’t hear you in the beginning, but keep pushing, keep going because one day they will hear you scream, they will hear you talk, they will her the emotions in your voice that describes your mood, your actions but not your life.

Who are you they ask me? I’m the person who one day will make it to the top and will look back, and say, “D***n, I made it. I didn’t think I would make this far, but I made it.” I’m the person likewise to everyone else who will always hear those voices in their head telling them to not stop, but keep going at the hard work you’re putting effort to because if you don’t all the hard work you’ve been doing since the beginning of the process will all be for nothing. Soon as technology grows and changes the word. Somethings that seem so useful to help us with life in different stages will be obsolete. We will remember what technology was like in our days growing up and tell the younger generations, “You guys are lucky, because in our days we didn’t have those.” Of course they’re going to look at us with that expression that says, “Yeah, right, you have no idea how tough it is.” To others no matter what the difficulty, we will still be happy with what we have even if it’s at the expense of a lie to convince children to be better than their parents. So again I repeat and pose the question, “Who are you?”

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