Who am I? Where am I? What year is it?

Today I finished reading an article by Kristin Armstrong titled "What I wish i had known about marriage" in the April issue of Glamour. (Yes, May the sneaky bastard has come around and I'm not done with my April issue of Glamour yet, OK? That is quite astute of you! And yes, I read Glamour. So bite me!)* It's her account of having lost her sense of identity in her marriage to Lance Armstrong, the renowned cyclist. I came upon a part that touched me profoundly:

"I became a prisoner to my own inability to say uncle when life squeezed me too hard. The warden was pride, and I remained in maximum security."

Wow. She has quite a way with words. And there's just something about that quote there. It resonates with me. We put undue pressure on ourselves to live up to someone's expectations all the time. But whose expectations are they? Now, an identity crisis I can certainly relate to. I've only had one since age 9.

To this day i never quite know who i am. In retrospect, being in a relationship definitely clouded my vision even more. When you're part of something, there can be this illusion of being whole, of being complete... happy even. I held on to illusory happiness time and again indeed.

*Hostile? Who, me?!