Who am I?

Me, I, Myself….. that’s who I call me.

Others call me by various names, AJ, Alex, Alexis, ‘xis, ‘xes, AiJai, amongst the more popular ones. Of course, there will be those who will give me endearments, and those who will call me by not so kind names.

But, really, … who am I? What’s in a name anyway. Does a name shape a person? Does a name portends a certain virtue? My name means “Defender” based on some story long ago. Does a name represent something which is sought after?

Being Chinese, I also have a Chinese name. Kian Wei, translating to great health. Being unable to read and write Chinese (but know how to write my name), I asked my dad once, “When someone asks me what my Chinese name is, how do I reply?”. This is especially pertinent given that Chinese characters may have different meanings if one stroke is missing, although it may sound the same. Was told to say “Muk Ye te Yang, Chien Kang te Chien, Wei Ta te Wei”. But really, what is in a name? Who am I really…

Do my actions represent more of me, or does my name overshadow my deeds in life. I doubt I have done anything great in life which my deeds may be remembered by the masses, but it is in those little deeds that someone individually unique may be touched. Ah… the key word “unique”. I am me. My name is me, and I am unique.

Then, if I am unique, why do I need to conform to social norms? Why do I need to adapt? Why am I ruled by society? The answer eludes me still I think, but I ponder in an analogy. Me, my whole being is made up of many particles – cells. I came about via multiple divisions of cells to create me. Those cells are indivially unique, yet, by being packaged as a whole, it is me. Me, being unique, is made up of so many different parts or components. Go figure!

So, who am I really. Am I a nice person? Am I cruel? Who is to define whether I am good or bad. Who is to tell me I am right or wrong. Who is to tell me, I am me?

Me, I have grown from a baby to an adult (I would like to think so). It makes me think back through the times, and reminiscence of what was. It makes me appreciate me. It makes me appreciate who have had a hand in shaping me. My family, my friends, my religion, and all I those with whom I come into contact. Here’s a picture of me when I was a wee toddler, with no cares in the world except to play, and enjoy life. Has life made me cynical? Has life made me a better person? Life has shaped me to what I am today. I am me.

So, my friends, “Who are you?”