How do I identify? Freedom sucks. In slavery, you do what you’re told. You don’t have to make any decisions. You go along to get along. One day after the next you follow the path that was decided for you until your rut hits a dead end, the grave. It’s simple. It’s predetermined. What you get stuck with could rock, or it could be a fate worse than death. Either way, it’s out of your hands. You can cling to hope that someday your circumstances will get better, but, ultimately, it’s out of your hands. You don’t have to be responsible for your life because you have no ability to respond otherwise. That’s how the first half of my life played out. I was a victim, a slave to my addiction. When other people in my life were hurt by my behaviors, it wasn’t my fault because I was just trying to survive. You can’t blame a person for trying to survive. But now, I’m free. I’m almost pissed at myself for working so hard to recover my freedom to choose because now I have to take responsibility for how I choose to identify. I’m no longer a slave to filling the role I was given by society, by my first education, by my family or origin. It’s up to me to define my identity now, who I am and who I want to become. And it hurts. It’s so hard because I know there will be people who don’t approve of the choices I make. I know that other people are going to get hurt by my decisions, and I have to own that. I have to take responsibility for the disaster I leave in my wake because I’ve chosen to take responsibility for the decisions that I make. I choose freedom. It sucks, and it hurts, and I’m scared, but it’s still better than the alternative.