How could I tell somebody who I am when I don't know it myself? It's not that I haven't tried. Quite the opposite. But more I learn about myself, the more questions I have. Why am I like this? How did I end up like this? Do I really want to be the person I am today? Who will I be tomorrow?
I could tell you to read through my posts from the past three years. But that would only give you a glimpse of who's behind the words. And that would miss the first 38 years of my life save those few posts when I have written about them.
I could tell you a story. Of how I came to be, at the definitive moment of my life. Or perhaps a nice metaphor. Imagine; warm summer evening, wind gently blowing. Waves breaking, against the shoreline, ebbing. Calm and soothing. Below the surface, depths unending.
I could tell you what I know, where have I been, what am I dreaming. I could tell you a million things.
But I see the puzzled look on your face. That's not what you came for.
So let me try this again.
Hello, my name is Janne. And I'm a writer.