now, and I am living in England, getting paid for writing.I couldn’t have anticipated any of this.And yet, at every step of this way, I had a certain idea of who I was — or, at least, who I thought I should be.
An elaborate story I told myself and my Moleskine.I am an entrepreneur.I am a producer.A writer.A college student.A college dropout.Etc., etc., etc.I felt a rush of joy every time I labeled myself one of these names.But then something new came up, and I would think, “Just maybe, I am not JUST this, but also that.
And that. And that.”What I discovered:a) I have no idea about who I am — all my ideas about myself were false and created merely to feel good about myself.
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