Well. Here I am, closer to middle-age than drinking-age, and just yesterday I realized I have pretty much managed my entire personality for all of my remembered life. (I don't think I'm alone on this). Somewhere, along the way (school, probably), I realized that the quiet kids, the ones who REALLY WOULD rather be reading in the corner than out in some organized playground takeover, have every right to defend their innate personalities.
Don't get me wrong--we all do stuff we don't want to do. That's life. And I loved the playground as much as the next kid, but give me the monkey bars or a swing--not a group activity. Please. But groups rule the world (and the schools), and while we quiet guys have to adapt to survive childhood (at least during school hours), we DON'T have to do it into adulthood, by god.
But we do. It's habit. It's ingrained. All along, I thought I was doing pretty well, but yesterday, while hiking, I realized I'd been checking in with others all my life--making sure it was okay that I chose A over B, subtly and unconsciously making light of my passions, sweeping them under the rug in favor of whatever advice I was given. (And to be fair--I've gone out in search of said advice, checking every major decision, and sometimes it's been the wrong thing for me, I think--and I've allowed that).
So. Anyway. That's just a mash of hiking thoughts up there, but there's something to it. There was a freedom as these veils fell away one by one. I know we *say* we're fine as we are, that we're embracing ourselves fully, but are we? And does it help when we label ourselves? I don't know. That's a built-in definition right there, a one-size-fits-all unitard that sure as hell ain't going to fit every body.
Well, I've got no answer, but I'm feeling that this test is more free-form than true/false...