For the past nineteen years, I have struggled to figure out who I am, where I fit in, and how I plan on creating a happy life for myself. Throughout this journey I have struggled immensely with the idea that reality is not in the least bit glamorous and stories keep people interested. The problem with stories are that they are fiction, yet life is not. So I have created a story for myself, not one I have stuck with, because many people can tell you many different version. Professionally I could be called a compulsive liar, though I prefer to say animated storyteller. Getting sucked up into a story is the best drug out there, the adrenaline rush of hooking the audience is like none other. Unfortunately these aren’t stories I am writing, they have come together as a falsified version of my life. Maybe it is time to set the record straight, or maybe it isn’t. Here is my question to anyone listening, How do we become ourselves?