Identity Crises

 Yes, I am having identity crises plural. Some deeper than others, but all significant. Let's get into it. 

Am I someone who likes sandwiches? 

This year, I can recall eating 4 sandwiches. Specifically, two different sandwiches that I returned to once each. One was a bagel sandwich at a delightful little place called Flourmoon, located in New Orleans, Louisiana. It was a toasted rosemary sea salt bagel containing roast beef, arugula, sharp cheddar cheese, and some sort of horseradish spread. Very delicious. The second sandwich was my sort of attempt to recreate this first one: toasted ciabatta baguette (idk it was cheap at Kroger), roast beef, sharp cheddar, apple slices, and French onion dip. Not as good as the original, but very good still. 

Now for a normal person, this is not news. But as someone who, for her whole life, has never liked bread or sandwiches of any kind really, this is pretty big. And as I begin to dream of all the doors this might open for me (how much easier it could be to pack a lunch, for example), I also begin to wonder: who am I? I have simply never known a version of myself who could eat a sandwich. I've never known a version of myself that would be that easy to feed.... Granted, there is still a lot I don't like and probably won't be eating-- regular sandwich bread, for one, but still, even feeling open to the concept of a sandwich is a pretty major shift in who I have been the past 26 years. I think it would feel less strange to announce to the world that I'm a vegetarian now than to announce that I (might) like sandwiches. 

(Also I tried Indian food and kind of liked it?? So much is changing.....)

Am I nepo baby? 

The original title of this post was "Am I a nepo baby: experimenting with clickbait titles." Then I broadened the scope so it was no longer quite as fitting, but the question remains. You may or may not know I'm in talks with my parents to see if they might buy me a house to live in. You may also know that historically I have had a lot to say about people whose parents buy them houses (I hate it). And yet here I am. 

I've never identified as someone who came from a family with money, and this is true. Growing up we weren't the most poor, but my dad working at a pet funeral home and then getting stage III cancer did put us in a position where, at one point, we "almost went bankrupt" according to my mom. In the years since my parents have both gotten more white collar jobs and now make pretty good money. They own a house, sent us to college (on loans), have bought a couple cars, etc. In short, I'd say they've landed solidly in the middle class. And now they even could be in the position to help me buy a house. And I'm so aware of all the privilege I have in life, and I don't know what to do with this information. 

I've never really aspired to be the self-made boot strapper American dream chaser archetype, but I have always aspired to be independent. And I've actively not wanted to be one of those over privileged kids that rely so heavily on their parents to get ahead in life. I don't even really want to "get ahead in life," whatever that means. It's strange that I judge people like this so heavily when I actually do believe it's a good thing to have family that supports one another and lives in community. But where is the line between living familially and being one of the rich kids that I grew up hating? 

I suspect this will continue to be something I wrestle with for a long time. And I hope I will land in a place where I can be both proud of what I've accomplished as an individual, and grateful and open about all the help I've received along the way (without feeling guilty about it). 

I also suspect I will have another wave of this crisis if and when I adopt the titles of homeowner/landlord-- isn't there something else I could be called?? Also it will only be half true but it's mouthful to always be explaining that technically my parents have bought the house, but they're getting paid back, but I share the responsibilities etc etc etc. 

Misc.

-I have also been surprised to acknowledge that by the time this year ends, I will have been working for no more than half of it. What is that about? What have I been doing? Taking some time to rest, yes. Laying the groundwork for next year, yes. But also...what the eff? I had all these plans of volunteering and traveling and scraping together farming work during this in between time and somehow....I did none of that? 

-I no longer share a last name with my own sister. What the heck is that about?? 

-Am I a farmer yet? Lately, mainly at wedding events, people have said to me, "I hear you want to be a farmer?" which sort of irks me. Because part of me says, "ummm, I am a farmer!" and part of me says, "I have so much still to learn and I have done some farming, but do I really deserve that title yet? Do I know enough? Have I done enough?" I don't know. 

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