The Hope Neuron

I have this feeling, and I have no way of knowing if it’s ridiculous or not, but I have this sense that I have yet to completely become who I am.

Does that make any sense? I turned 37 years old at the start of the month. Shouldn’t I feel more… Whole? Or contained? This is something I can’t be certain of. Without the ability to see the future, I can hardly know if I will feel this way in later years. I only know that I can’t remember ever feeling like I have arrived as myself.

It’s difficult to describe this exactly. It’s one of those states that I am pretty sure others have experienced, but I can’t be sure.

The closest thing I can think of, to draw a parallel, is the anticipation of planning to be something “when I grow up.” The plans many of us make as children. The feeling of being at the bottom of some kind of trajectory, one that you will complete over the coming years.

I wanted to be a few things when I was younger, but then again, I didn’t have a feeling of being incomplete as I was. But the notion of not having fully become oneself implies just that. It’s not a perfect example, but the longing of an unrealized identity is very similar.

So, casting about trying to describe this feeling, the other idea that occurs to me is potential. Potential energy, I guess, for lack of a better term. I feel like I have potential. I feel that, even after all this time, struggling as an adult, there is more for me to be. More potential in reserve.

It’s not a great way to think of myself, as lacking something up until now, but I don’t think it’s completely negative either.

I truly believe that I can be that person I imagine I am meant to be. I don’t think it’s an impossible standard, or a pipe dream. I feel closer to being my true self than I have in a long time.