The Many “Me”s of Pollyanna

Anna-Liza here. You may have noticed my girl-crush on that I really enjoy Havi Brooks? Anyway, this post of hers got me thinking about my “other selves”. Not in the “Sybil” sense (I’m pretty sure, anyway), but in the “inner child or whatever-it-is” sense. (Oh, be sure to read this post of Havi’s first – the other one will make more sense that way. And it’s funny.)

I have *lots* of Other Selves. I frequently refer to myself (in certain contexts) as “we” or “us” and actually mean it. Here are a few that are most familiar to me (and easiest to describe).

Dancer Me is close to the surface. I love to dance and can usually “let her out” whenever dancing happens. She’s in better shape than I am currently (which doesn’t really say much), looks like I did in college as a drama major with lots of dance classes. Down to the leotard, the hair in the ponytail, the old cardigan and the legwarmers. She’s not afraid to shake her ass – not shaking it gets in the way of the dancing. I am currently knitting a pair of sexy legwarmers (no really, they are sexy). Could be related.

English Teacher Me: She has a name – Amanda Louise. She looks a bit like a “sexy librarian” – slim skirt, hair in a bun. Glasses. She’s not at all repressed, though. She has a sense of humor, will tolerate a lot of leeway in spoken language and casual writing, and she has no problem with the invention of new words to convey new flavors of ideas, but she gets *really* pissy when people use the words “action” or “architect” as verbs. She has a red pencil and isn’t afraid to use it. She knows why relying on SpellCheck is a really bad idea. She’d be a good “Jeopardy” player in certain categories.

Rock Star Me: You know the drill. Black leather. High heeled boots. Mostly a singer and bass player, but she monkeys around with drums pretty regularly and isn’t above the humble cowbell. Has a thing for lyrics that actually mean something. Frequently transforms into Lounge Singer Me – sparkly heels, slinky dress, long earrings, a microphone and a baby grand to lean against. Or just a spotlight on an otherwise dark stage.

Writer Me? I’m still not certain she exists, but now I suspect that she does and I’ve been pretending she doesn’t. She’s probably not Amanda Louise, but they talk a lot and have coffee together frequently. Or maybe she is Amanda Louise and just keeps this part a secret until I am less of a wimp!

Artist/crafter me: Just about as elusive as Writer Me. Loves making. Can put together something beautiful out of old scraps and maybe some paint. Is ready to try almost any creative activity, just to see what happens. Endlessly curious about the world. Looks … pretty much like me, but with smudges on hands and face and an old, stained apron with big pockets.

Crone me: Smart, wise, tough, white haired, wears bright colors, takes no shit from anyone, says exactly what she thinks. She won’t spare your feelings if she thinks it would be bad for you to spare them, but she won’t be unnecessarily unkind, either. Swears if that’ll put her point across. Cares about no one’s opinion but her own and God’s. Makes really beautiful things. Has all the other Mes integrated and working together, finally.

So what about you? You willing to “come out” with all your Other Yous? Maybe now you know you’re not the only one! (Heh).

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