Â§hria's Spot

The single life or fakin' it like a pro

Fakin' it used to be so much easier. Back when I knew what sort of girl they wanted me to be.

Now I suffer from disosiative faking disorder.

I forget which me to fake at any given time. Sometimes I have to fake being a good daughter while faking an enlightened state of blissful motherhood. In the next instant, I must make a smooth transition into the role of efficient journalist while neatly spinning the plate that is my role as supportive friend.

Meanwhile I wonder, or should I say wander through the roles trying to pick out facets of the real me. Who am I? Does it really matter? What is important? Will I ever play the role of partner again?