Who We Really Are

Writing the Geek piece got me wondering what sort of cultural bending I’ve done in the past. I’m always amazed by people who get so wrapped up in a culture not of their own and they convince themselves they are someone else entirely. I know several people who have convinced themselves that they are Native Americans, (OK I say Indian because I’ve spoken with several Indians who hate being called Native Americans). I know we’ve all seen the white rappers, OMFG! What’s up with that? That whole thing is worse than faking an Italian accent.

Once I bent what I considered my safety zone. I grew up in an affluent suburb. I had a lot of friends who came from wealthy families. My family was far from wealthy, but I was accepted unconditionally by the families of my wealthy friends.

While associating with the wealthy I learned how to behave and how not to behave. I thought I had developed the tools to be functional within the culture of the wealthy but my confidence was shaken in the field one day.

It was during the time when I was scouting to make a new life for myself in Hawaii. I booked myself for a week on Oahu, a week on Maui, and another week on the Big Island of Hawaii and then back to Oahu to finish my consideration. It was on the Big Island that I had booked myself in a luxury resort. I felt uncomfortable from the moment I started driving down the long palm bordered black drive way across lava field. There was all this artificial looking, too green grass on the golf course. There were ponds and waterfalls and fountains with the architecturally superior hotel in the background.

Just driving up and checking in made me feel like I did not belong there. I may have looked like I belonged there with my shinny new rental car and my linen jacket and very cool sun glasses, but I knew better. I was nearly overcome with anxiety.

Back in New Jersey some of my friends lived in actual mansions, nothing like the McMansions that are trying to be passed off as the homes of the wealthy these days. I cruised with them on their yachts in the Hudson River. I drove their Jaguars and attended their weddings at the Waldorf. I vacationed with them in their summer homes. I thought I had the culture down pat, but when I went at it solo my wings melted. I was not that at all the person I practiced to be. I did have a very good income, but I wasn't and never would be at the sustainable income level where luxuries such as that resort would become common place to me.

I finally found my place in society. I live a simple life with only a few pretenses. As it turns out I wake up early every morning, drink coffee, post an article on my blog and then I put on a pair of Wellingtons and I go out and clean horse stalls. Even when I am out of town and someone else is tending to my duties at home; I still wake up at 5:00am as though I need to partake in my normal morning ritual.

This is who I am and who I really want to be. I can pretend to be someone else on occasion, but every morning my day starts out the same way and thus becomes how I ultimately define myself.