I didn’t realize how much of my identity and value was wrapped up in this little green booklet thingie. I had no clue that my unspoken claim to fame was simply getting to be different from the majority of the crowd.
I don’t look different. I’ve almost completely lost my accent.
But I feel a little different.
It’s the kind of feeling you get when you’re wearing sexy underwear {read: not the nursing bra or granny panties} and no one knows but you. With me?
Since when did this define me so?
I guess, in examining the emotions that have emerged since starting the naturalization process, I’m having to admit that I have allowed my ability to say, “no, I’m not an American, nor Australian…and no…I’m not from England…here’s my story…”, to determine some of my identity.
It has become what makes me unique. Special, even.
The quintessential significance meter.
And I’m having somewhat of an identity crises.
As if taking away my Namibian passport – and the label that deems me “interesting” and “unique” – is removing what makes me me.
What makes me worth knowing. Worth befriending. Worth loving.
It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?
Because I know it isn’t true.
This cockeyed mentality doesn’t apply to anyone else {as I’m fully aware that your nationality, accent, or the color of your passport, has absolutely nothing to do with your magnificent value as a person, or your intrinsic value}.
It’s just me.
And I’m grappling with this silly little thing.
{Go ahead…laugh. I totally know I look like the Unabomber in this photo}
So yesterday I mailed it off: my hefty application, a fat check {for $675 to be exact}, photos for my new US Passport – that, thank the Lord, are a vast improvement on my first passport photos – along with my reluctant willingness to give up my Namibian citizenship. Ugh.
I need therapy.
But on the bright side: the thought of having a valid drivers license again {gulp} helps. Enormously. And the knowledge that I will finally be eligible to apply for a spot on the Amazing Race is pretty cool too. Yes, I’m a fan. And yes, I’d love to be on the show. And totally…I wanna travel the world with my husband, complete strenuous challenges, test the limits of our patience and grace, get stressed out on national television and win a million smackaroos!
But back to my identity crises.
I think it’s been averted. I’ll keep you posted.
Over and out.
