I do things while eating tacos
My high school counselor would always ambush me with one very cheesy, almost on the verge of profound question: Who are you?
‘‘My name’s Cristina, so I guess that’s who I am.’’ I’d answer. - ‘’Wrong!’’ She’d reply, ‘‘your name is not who you are’’.
‘‘A woman from Ecuador perhaps…’’ - ‘’Wrong again!’’ She’d yell at me vigorously. ’’Your place of birth and gender shouldn’t define you.’’
‘‘Well, I can have entire conversations using quotes from The Simpsons and I happen to really like T.V when it’s making fun of people who aren’t me’’. - ‘‘Incorrect. ‘’ She’d say with a straight face, completely unamused.
‘‘Ok, if you insist on knowing, I’m into the energy mosh pits give me, I believe in the power of the Triforce, have a biometric retina in my right eye and Gwen Stefani once talked to me in a 50,000 people crowd. See these scars? I serve as my cat’s personal scratching post, and I’ve also won several spicy food eating contests. This is all, without a doubt, big part of who I am.’’ My counselor would retort with: ‘’That’s all nice I guess, but I asked who you are. Not what makes you, you. ‘’
A decade later, and I still don´t know the absolute correct answer to this question designed to make pre-college me incredibly anxious. The person depicted by all the things listed above became a copywriter along the way and that also became part of who she is. I’m certain my former counselor has no idea what any of that means, and honestly, i’m very proud of that.
PS: In the process of getting my O1 visa.