Mr. Cellophane

This morning I woke up crying from a dream I had last night. I had walked into my old office only to find business as usual. They did not notice I was there, nor did they care. I was forgotten.

I grew up feeling this way. From the time I was a kid, through my university career I felt like Mr. Cellophane. "You could look right through me, walk right by me and never know I'm there." There was not really anything special about me. I was always just a member of the team, but never the star.

When I got to Texas A&M to go to grad school and work, that really had not changed. I was still just doing my thing, some would notice. Others, in my mind, started to believe. By the time I landed in my role in Scholarships & Financial Aid, I started to feel that the cellophane was being pulled back and I was finally able to start to shine. A lot of that was because of the trust provided in me by others. Some of that was because my purpose and identity had finally started developing.

By the time I was in my last role as the Associate Director, my identity and purpose had grown very strong. I knew what I wanted to do with my life and I had a pretty good idea of how I would accomplish the task. There were days I felt like Major Winters, leading my team with a sense of purpose in the projects and tasks at hand. There were always tasks that I did not particularly like to do, but in general I enjoyed getting up every morning and going to my office. I had friends there; I had amazing students; I had opportunities to do things I had not imagined I could do. Other days I felt like Captain Speirs- running through the fire on a prayer that I would make it through the other side and live another day to lead the team. Most days, I felt like Iron Man leading the Avengers- a team of heroes pulled together to help accomplish their goal. I felt like a superstar. Finally, I was seen. I had identity. I had purpose.

Here, I have experienced a loss for my purpose and my identity.

Yes, I am a mother. But for those who really know me, you will understand that although I love my children dearly, I need more in life. I would do anything for them, don't get me wrong. But I am also my own being and don't live to serve them alone.  I respect stay at home moms. But it is not me. I saw on an email the other day a mom who signed her email with so-in-so's mom...that makes me cringe.

Chickering and Reisser would probably be proud that I could still relate to their 7 vectors of identity development. I feel that I have started over from vector 1. Developing Competence. Even Moving through Autonomy toward Interdependence (vector 3). Believe it or not, I can get myself around town a little better now.

Here I feel like Mr. Cellophane once again. I am hoping that my sense of identity will come back soon and I can be someone other than a mother. I don't mean to be negative about this experience, but I am not Pollyanna (I in fact despise people telling me to look for the positive). I am a realistic person and don't need to pretend that I am happy all the time. If I could go back, I would in a heart beat. But it's not possible. That part of my life is gone now. I am not through the grieving process, so please don't tell me to get over it.

Mr. Cellophane should have been my name...