People will label you. They will call you out of your name just as quickly as they’ll address you by your name. What you answer tois your choice.
I am 47 years old and have been called every name in the book from bitch to witch, sweet to evil, kind to ruthless. The less pleasant monikers were almost always assigned my by ex-husband. According to him, I was worthless, a burden, a liability. Such things continued the reign of mental/emotional abuse that ultimately defined him.
Even my government name has been pronounced many different ways. In my younger days, I would fire back at the harsh names I was called. I would try to defend myself against them. Typically, I was angry at being mislabeled and my reaction would reflect that.
One day, however, I realized that my response was just that – mine. That day, I chose not to respond. It was about that time that I began to come into my own as a woman. It was that day that I began to see myself with a brand new set of eyes. I no longer cared what others said or even what they thought. It was about what I thought of myself.
The labels that I have chosen to respond to and indeed, live by are: strong, resilient, resourceful, empathetic, sympathetic, spirited, funny, intelligent, logical, optimistic, open-minded and any other noun that accentuates the good in me.
Yes, I do have characteristics that need to be worked on. I’m human. I choose not to allow those things to define me though. They won’t carry me to the places I want to dwell in. They won’t get you where you want or need to be either. I have dreams, goals and inspirations that require me to good-natured. I have to maintain the sense of humor that I’m known for. There’s a little bit of humor in everything we do. I will never again allow anyone to define who I am. I am my own woman. I’ll live my own standards. No one defines me but me.