A question I have never answered, a code I have never cracked. Who am I, really? Some answers I have already sought out, some I have not... just yet. Honestly, as I am writing this paper, I have no idea what to say but just the obvious ones: a human individual brought about my parents whose sperm and egg cell have “met” during the process of conception. A human being who, fortunately, is normal: present with all body parts and capable of doing ordinary things, not extraordinary ones. Most of all, I am a creature who is of intellect and free will. Nevertheless, I have to dig deeper into myself and ask myself “who am I actually?” Presently, living in this world for almost two decades, I have only distinguished only a few of who I am.
Just like any other human, I am being who was blessed with a soul and body however, regardless of my belief in my religion, I am still rather confused of how humans came to be, of how I came to be. Why is there life and why do we need to die? Is there another life outside of this world? There’s this curiosity inside me that I, someday, want to learn and discover about. My questions never ended which often leads me to random questioning of my neighbours. I am even more curious how philosophical anthropology would teach me more about an individual’s existence, not limiting it to actual human beings. Well, of course, all beings serve each other a purpose. For example, plants emit oxygen while humans inhale it to breathe and live; humans emit carbon dioxide and plants take it to their system in order to produce food. Furthermore, sometimes I actually ask myself if there’s really a god who watches over us and how did such people came into conclusions about how we were created. When will we ever know when humans actually existed, did we really descend from monkeys? I want to know. Then again, these questions follow me through my daily life, even during the simple times when I leave school, walk through the streets of Ortigas and ride the MRT. I am a being who likes to observe people and either appreciate or criticize them as my eyes lay upon them. Then again, these thoughts often lead me to overthinking, such as thinking what would have happened if an incident or event never happened. If it hadn’t happened, will it be the best for everyone or will it shut off people from the world they have come to know?
Who am I? I am an individual who knows that experience can make a being, including me, stronger, more powerful and smarter. The bad experiences make me reflect on either how to make myself better or the thought of some kind of retribution to the people who made me feel my worst during that time. Then again, there are those good experiences which are worth reliving and saving for the future, those that can give me a sense of inspiration, hope and trust. Nonetheless, I also think of myself as a selfish person in a sense that I have been brainwashed and made numb by the pain I have felt during my younger years. I know I have to fight for myself because if I wouldn’t, who would? I needed to feel cared for so that I can sense my purpose here on earth. The hurts I feel often give me the tendency to not appreciate others’ purpose as well. I actually don’t know the reason why these kinds of experience lead me to the worst however, despite all of these, there’s still the side of me who wants to show the love that I feel but never really had the guts to do so. Honestly, I think I’ll never know when to say those three words seriously. Furthermore, this leads me to my parents to whom I have never said those words before. With all due respect to them, I am in forever gratitude for them for keeping me alive and caring for me all these years but sometimes, I only want them to show their more humble sides, just a simple “I’m sorry, I was wrong” for instances that they blamed me for something wrong. Despite this wish, though, I also never had the guts to actually be angry at them because I always teach myself that I have no right to be mad at them, not even the slightest one because I respect them, I am in forever in debt because of what they have given me. This thinking makes me realize that I should give them back something in return, the very least I can do is to make the household chores and have high grades.
Who am I? I am a person not yet ready to talk personally about anything referring to sexuality or such. Yes, I can talk about femininity and masculinity but all the others, I just can’t. Frankly, I feel a cringe in my body just the thought of it that I might not as well talk about it here.
Lastly, as I have discussed with my friends recently, I am a being who still does not know her purpose in life. What am I doing here? How am I supposed to know what my purpose is if I don’t know what the future will be? See, as I am reflecting with myself right now, I have only discovered how much thinking I could put into this. Going back to my lack of knowledge of my purpose, these same friends replied to me such ideas like “maybe, you’re a late bloomer.” Although I never really understood what that meant, I accepted it knowing that she could’ve known better since she already knows her purpose here. Furthermore, I am an individual still searching of what my identity is and wanting to use it as a part of enriching myself for whatever may come.
A two-page essay I made for my Philosophical Anthropology class. At first, I thought it was such a nerve-wracking thing to do, to think about yourself philosophically... or near to that. However, as I began to start writing, the thoughts just poured out.