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Do our likes and dislikes shape us into the people we believe we are, or are we shells of a similar ilk adding traits like a game of buckaroo?

I have always had a strong sense of identity, but there are times when I begin to question everything. Sometimes, I feel as though I am floating through life like a lonely cloud that could come apart at any slight tumble. I have lost that concrete feeling I relied on. Every day I search for something about myself that nobody has.

I know that my middle name is unique in England. I certainly have some quirks that may have filled that hole some time ago, but not anymore. My need to feel special has been active since I was a little girl. I was forever ignored by my peers. My ability to go unnoticed was extraordinary.

I make lists in my head of all the things that are supposed to make up my personality, but the result just feels hollow. Instead, I lose myself in other people’s stories, or the ones I create as a Poet and Fiction Writer.

I have always vowed to never rely on my appearance to get me by. Online, I am mostly faceless. In person, that is not possible of course. While my dislike of my appearance is certainly strong, I still believe one should never use aesthetics for monetary gain.

In some ways, I almost don’t feel human. What path do we take now?