The Chance Chatter of Chameleons

I was asked recently for the purposes of writing a philosophy paper to describe myself the “who I am”. That doesn’t sound hard, right? Dang, if I initially couldn’t describe myself outside of what I look like: 5’5” tall, medium build, blue eyes, white/brunette hair. I then dug DEEP (deep is relative here) and widened my description: wife, mom, daughter, sister, friend, professional. That was deep right? What I realized is, I have no idea WHO I am. I know “what” I am. That was the hardest bullshit paper I have ever written. I got an A, but it was total bullshit. I moved on; paper done. I honestly didn’t want to think about it too much, what if I didn’t like who I am?

Recently, I have had a lot of time alone (deployment sucks in case you were wondering), being alone with my thoughts is NEVER a good idea, but maybe it is? I was went running to burn off some depression and anxiety this morning and I realized I do know “who I am”; I am whatever people around me need me to be, a chameleon.  Chameleons are rather interesting, they don’t talk. The communicate through body language and color changes. They are what they are perceived to be by other creatures. I feel that to my core. What would they say if they communicated? What would that chatter sound like? Would anyone care or listen? I think there is a community that cares, I think there are other beings that could benefit from that chatter, even if it’s to not feel alone. The ones that don’t, won’t matter. The chatter needs to start somewhere, so I think I will start it here.