Cover me with labels

I sit in a steamy afternoon and ponder who I am and how I got here. Why do I care? Usually I don't but now and then I want to understand the me that others see and talk about. The me that pleases, disappoints, succeeds, and fails, in interactions where I had no intention whatsoever; just happened to be sitting in a chair close by and, when asked a question, answered and became the one who formed the whole. A talent to relinquish if I knew where the return desk was!

I wear a diadem of labels gifted me by family, by friends, by those who never met or spoke with me - not even once - but heard a tale or two about me, instantly expert on my inner workings, inner thoughts and motives. Some of them I earned. I live my life, embrace it, as I wrapped a careless arm around old Cupid's neck in Picadilly Circus saluting London with a song.

And yes, I did run, stripping off my clothes, in the street, quite true; it was all I could think of to do. I was in a show, forced by the model in front of me to exit on the wrong side of the stage, no way across to my next outfit but out and around the whole building and I had 45 seconds for the change. I made it. Yes, indeed I disco danced on crutches, refused a Porsche, left a lover at Heathrow when he offended and went off to Majorca, leaving him to go to Paris all alone. Stood up to be counted no matter what it cost me and smiled sometimes when I was afraid.

So why today, this introspection? It started (again!) to rain so I went down and took in my mother's laundry, and thought of how I am not the daughter she would prefer; no interest in a family tree or sudoko, no longer her 'soul food' as she used to call me. A fall from grace made all unknowing. And I thought how pleasant it would be to be judged on what I do, rather than what anyone thinks of me.

And then I thought, how boring. No mystery, no scandal, no eyebrows raised and voices hushed when I am around. Come let me be a steamer trunk and every label marks a journey I have made, a summit scaled, a goal achieved, a story written bold and large upon the page. Please let my epitaph be She Lived And Breathed And so enjoyed her Being! Much more fun that way.