Tell me who you are?

Don’t tell me your name. In a word or two, tell me who you are.

That was the question posed to us at one women’s retreat. One by one, we walked up front and were supposed to announce who we were in a one or two words.

When it was my turn, all I could think of saying was writer. I’m a writer.

But I wasn’t satisfied with the response and for the few weeks I kept trying to think of a better answer.

I couldn’t do it. I probably had given the most appropriate answer after all.

When we work we often define ourselves by our job.

We might say, “I’m a newspaper writer” or “I’m a nurse.” We equate who we are with our job.

During that retreat some women answered the “who are you” question by answering they are a mother.

I might have done the same thing when my daughters were still at home. After they left home to form their own way in life I was still a mother, of course. I was proud and happy to be their mother.

But mothering was no longer my primary role once the kids were no longer at home.

I talked with a few recently retired men, asking them the who are you question. Some answered according to the job they once had.

I’ve been told by some that when a man loses his job he lose more than a paycheck. He loses an identity.

When I answered the who am I question at the retreat I could very well say I was a writer. Because to me writing was more than a job. It was a way of being. I’ve always needed to write as much as I need to breathe.

I’m sure that when I find myself at the pearly gate I would wish I could write about it.

From the time I was in fourth grade I defined myself as a writer.

I noticed that my husband and his friends often defined themselves as bikers. Not motorcycles. They ride street bikes, traveling many miles a day on their bikes.

What happens when these bikers meet other bikers for the first time? They talk about their bike trips. I found there is nothing a biker likes more than meeting another biker.

My husband always says he is most comfortable talking to a new acquaintance if he can find something in common with them. And if he discovers someone is a biker or boater he knows he has found a kindred soul. Then he can talk and talk. But he says if he doesn’t have something in common with a new acquaintance he finds it hard to carry on a conversation,

I believe that’s why we like to tell others what we enjoy or what we do for our job. When we can establish something we have in common it’s easier to build a friendship.

I always find it fascinating to meet someone new and learn interesting things about them. I truly do enjoy meeting new people and I like learning about what they do.

Unlike my husband, I don’t only like talking with those who share my interests.

A while back I sat in a waiting room where I started a conversation with a guy who worked on the highway. I liked listening to him talk about his job and I learned interesting things I didn’t know.

I think that’s one more reason why I miss my newspaper job. I miss getting to know new people.

My point is that most people are interesting if we can draw them out.

One interesting tidbit I discovered when I moved to Florida was that when meeting strangers we don’t start conversations asking what they do. We ask where they are from.

Few people I meet here were born and raised here in Florida. Everybody is from someplace else.

My next-door neighbors put their old license plates on their mailbox so everyone knows where they are from. It’s just a talking point.

Because so many people in Florida are retired we don’t know about their fascinating jobs or experiences.

Here in Florida, often I can know someone for years without knowing much about their interesting past.

When you are still part of the working world it’s much easier to get to know people.

I’m rather outgoing but I still find it takes work to make new friends. It’s not as easy once you retire because you don’t have access to so many new people.

I found the best way to form new friendships is to join a church or organization. But even then it takes time and work to really get to know people.

My friend Jeanne tells the story of being so starved for conversation that she deliberately parked her grocery cart in the middle of a supermarket aisle. Then she engaged people in conversation when they waited for her to move.

But now she found an easier way to make friends is to learn the names of women in her exercise class. Then she makes a point of calling them by name when she starts a conversation. It seems to be working.

Plus, it’s a lot easier way to tell others who you are. You can even use more than a word or two.

Email Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net