Who I Am is Who I AM

Spending time with my thoughts and the sea

I made an interesting self-discovery this weekend, even though I’ve procrastinated a bit writing about it:

Kirasha Urqhart is still me.

Perhaps not startling to some, but important for the typist behind the avatar.

See, I’ve always been a sort of cameleon, adapting my personality to any given group or situation.  Not really changing who I am, so much as what parts of me get shown to whom.  I don’t think I really hid those parts, so much as indulged in others, rarely feeling the need to discuss Motzart with the Metalheads, for example, when I could indulge my love of Metallica and Slayer in their conversations.  I was always the one who made friends with half the cliques in high school — and then had to figure out how not to make them hate each other for an evening if I wanted to have a birthday party, for instance.

Despite being an active roleplayer (though not obsessive) since the age of 16, a theatre buff and techie, as well as a writer of fantasy and romance stories, it wasn’t really until the internet that I began thinking of some of this intrinsic nature as playing a role in life.

I think, in part, I fell into that trap of being anyone online.  That period of time just out of high school, first couple years in college, trying to find your way in a new adult world that isn’t going to give you a make-up exam if you miss the final, is perhaps one of the most emotionally chaotic periods in a person’s life.  Fiddling around on the internet, which itself is still in its infancy, was a great exploratory experience.  But, in some ways, I think I fooled myself as well as others.

I was at the local community college when i really started getting into the internet and BBSs (which were all the rage at the time, so that tells you how long ago we’re talking).  I would unltimately spend five years there, trying on four different majors, several different ‘me’ personalities, and eventually leave with pretty much nothing to show for it except hours clocked at the threatre and even more logged in the computer lab playing around online.  During this time, I was also seeing someone off and on, an open relationship that I had rapidly discovered I was completely unsuited for, but was already emotionally attached.  I alternated between ecstaically in love and depressingly unloved all based on whether we were on again or off again that month.

The internet offered the fresh start I was looking for, the clean slate where nobody knows me and maybe they’ll appreciate me for who I am, not whether or not I’ll sleep with them or if I’ll be available at their every whim, regardless of my own life and needs.

When I came to Second Life in February…and June…and permanently in October…I was looking for the same thing, I think.

But, I came to realize this past weekend that I seriously suck at being anyone other than myself.  No matter what ‘improvements’ I make in the persona I project, it slips and I end up just interacting as little ole me.  I actually created an alt (no, I will not tell you her name) for the express purpose of going out and exploring and doing all the things I would never do as myself, from dressing in haute couture to experimenting with virtual sex.

She has only seen the light of day about three times.  I’m just not comfortable in her skin.

I attended a few group events this weekend – Jerremy Darwin’s Rez Day Party, hosted by his wife Tymmerie, and a couple stops on the Grand Tour hosted by Caledon and several of her sister Realms (Steeltopia’s party and then Caledon Argyl’s under the sea ball).

I completely forgot to try and take pictures at Jerremy’s party.  But, it was a fun night.  Got to meet several new people who I’ve really only seen in blogs or other people’s Plurks.  Heard some great music.  Didn’t say much, but didn’t really feel like an outsider, either.

At Steeltopia, I took a BUNCH of photos, which I’m working on formatting for flickr and will post during the holiday, most likely.  Again, hung out with some great people, many of whom were somewhat familiar from ISC chat and a couple community meetings.  Great music — including the theme to Neverending Story, one of my favorites.  And again, didn’t say much, but didn’t really feel like an outsider, either.

I was only able to attend the under the sea ball for a short time due to the lateness of the hour and being the only member of the RL family NOT ill this past weekend.

The key point that struck me was that I was truly enjoying myself, without feeling like I had to be a chatter box.  See, I used to moderate a LiveJournal-based roleplaying game.  And we had bi-weekly player chats, impromptu chats, everyone was on IMs (which wasn’t required officially, but most players got put out if someone wasn’t available — and that’s a headache for another story).  There was always a feeling of “you’re a mod, you’re supposed to be here and friendly and chatting with us about nothing, no matter how detrimental chat is to your getting the work done on the game that we’re hounding you about in chat“.  Not from everybody, but from enough of a percentage that chatting began to feel like a chore.  I’m not big on phones, hate hearing my own voice, will never use voice in SL, would rather email than IM, and dislike being the center of attention, even despite wanting to put my words out for the masses to hear.

I’ve spent the last seven or eight years, since the relationship I had in college failed, working on finding a way back to who I am.  The reason this behaviour of mine at these parties struck me was because it’s a clear sign to me that I’ve succeeded in some part in finding that girl again.  Because, it wasn’t shyness or awkwardness that kept me silent.  It was simply because I didn’t have anything important to say.  That’s who I am.  Not a chatterbox talking to fill the silence.  I speak when I have something to say or am spoken to directly.  And if I don’t have something to say, I’m perfectly content to just listen to what everyone else has to say.

I tried to fool myself into thinking my online persona was this vapid chatterbox with nothing interesting to say, just talking to be part of the conversation.  And maybe I played that role for a while.

But this weekend, I realized that my Second Life persona was a more true reflection of who I am.  Which sounds strange, I’m sure.  Yet, in a weird way, I needed to create a new version of ‘me’, Kirasha Urqhart, in order to find part of the real me again.