How are we defined? By the career we choose? The job we do? The roles we play? Am I a teacher just because I teach? Am I a writer just because I write? Am I a mother because I have children?
Is there a mark I must meet? A threshold? A benchmark? Some indication that this is who I am at the very core of my existence.
It should at least be something evident.
Every single day.
Every single day.
Can we really run from what defines us?
Letters and The Word 
Leave a comment