This is also part of the regular Five Minute Friday writing community. Here‘s the linkup if you’d like to check out other writers’ thoughts on the word Who.
When I was a kid in elementary school, and was asked to write about myself, I wrote about who I was in relation to my parents. My mom was one of eight biological siblings and one other half sister. Her parents were Irish and Swedish. My dad was born in Bordeaux, France, and his mom is French, and his dad is Hispanic. So, my description wasn’t really about me, but my interesting heritage. I really don’t think I could describe WHO I was until I hit age 30. Throughout my high school and college years, and even into my twenties, I sort of chameleoned my personality based on my friends. I picked the best, most likable characteristics of my friends and tried to imitate, creating a Frankenstein of a self that wasn’t easy to maintain. I was always wondering who really liked me, and why, since I wasn’t even sure who I was myself. And I didn’t find myself very interesting. At 30, I didn’t all of a sudden change who I was. I just decided to believe that I was likeable. That God made me who I am and that was enough. I was enough. God had given me talents and gifts and interests totally unique to me and I started liking who He’d made me to be.