some of us need to learn to be a “we,” some of us need to learn to be a “me,” and some of us…

Some people need to learn to be a “me.”

They’ve never been on their own. Don’t even know what it means to be themselves, apart from a Romantic Other. Suddenly find themselves cast on their own and…have no clue. Utterly adrift, no direction, no purpose. It’s scary.

Others need to learn to be a “we.”

They’ve always been the strong, independent type. At the same time, they desperately crave that Other person. But they have no idea how to adjust the “me” in a way that balances the “we.” They have no idea how to be vulnerable, without drowning in the deep end. So the “we” never happens.

I’ve thought, lately, what it means to be “me.” The truth is, I don’t know that I can give an answer. I know the “we,” in my situation. I know I’m capable of extending that “we” beyond simply two people.

Sometimes it’s beautiful for quite a long time. But usually it fades and, once again, it’s me and him. But that’s nice, too. Comforting. I know I’ll never have to worry about simply being a “me,” again.

But what is “me”?

I’m not sure I know, entirely. But I’m also not sure it’s a bad thing. At least for me. I’ve been left before. I’ve left others. But I’ve always naturally connected to a “community,” if not a specific person. I can’t remember a time I felt alone, for more than a few days.

When I moved to Korea, I knew nobody. Halfway around the world, I found a Socrates Cafe the first week. Voila, my community was born. I posed the question, “What is home?,” and the group voted to talk about my topic. I stayed with that community for a year and a half.

I think that’s okay. I’m not sure I’m meant to simply be a “me.” But I’m also comfortable outside of being an “we.” Perhaps it’s something to do with the fact that being a Couple was never something I felt I needed, even though I somehow rarely found myself outside of that structure. I swear it often wasn’t on purpose! But, still, I think the “me” might elude my grasp.

I still play around with the “me,” for sure.

I try not to worry, but I also keep up my own “me”ness in any way I can think of. Because I do think it’s important. I just think that, in my case, wondering if I am capable of being “me” means overthinking myself into a very deep rabbit hole out of which I may never emerge.

Whatever I am, I know this much:

I am okay.

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