Misrepresentation

As an analytical female, I tend to think I know myself the best. I spent 365 days a year, 24 hours a day awake and asleep constantly thinking and most of that time, it's over how I'm feeling and how I can better myself in this world. Even in the subconsciousness of my dreams, within the form of a magical character or disguised by the mask of my 10th grade geometry teacher, I'm constantly forced to face that that is inside me. I can honestly say, that besides myself, there are two other people out there who know me almost as well as I know myself. Mom and Elise. If asked how to best describe me, here's how I imagine both would answer:

Elise: she's an imaginative, quirky minded creative type who tends to talk before thinking, but always does everything with whole hearted compassion and conviction. As for a friend, she supports all and in the past has allowed herself to be used as a crutch for others if it meant helping someone in need. She has a problem always telling the truth and loves her friends more than they often love her.

Mom: the perfect blend of myself and Dad. Sensitive and cognizant of her surroundings, vulnerable but has grown to be tougher than myself, a strong sense of self, emotional and mothering, sarcastic and silly, tenacious but fair, loving and never too old to snuggle. (Truth be told, my mom could write a book about me)

Everywhere I've lived, most people have quickly learned almost all these traits about me. I'm pretty easy to open and hard to shut up. So, it's been shocking to be misunderstood, as of lately. I wear my heart, my head and my soul on my sleeve, and yet, so many seem to think the exact opposite of me. It would be like someone describing me as "tall, blond, quiet and boring."

I believe someone else is out there pretending to be me and I would like them to stop. Bring back Cammy. I'm here waiting....