It happened this week. The first time since I moved to Ecuador almost a year ago.

I became completely overwhelmed, and the thought flashed across my short-circuiting brain: “I want to go home.” The thought stopped me in my tracks. Ecuador is my home. Not Arkansas. I know that in my heart.

But in that one instant, I broke down in tears. All I really wanted was a “Good ‘Ol Boy” in jeans and a soft t-shirt to wrap me in his arms and say in a deep southern drawl, “Don’t worry. I got this.”

Transformation for Temporary Triumph

I’ve been single for eleven years. I’m tough. I overcame some hard challenges during that time. What was I thinking?

I was so stunned at my reaction that I sat down. I reached for my Spotify, found the “Karen’s Lynyrd Skynyrd” playlist, and cranked it up.

The guitar riffs and piano keys entwined my energy field with that old armor I thought I had shed as I healed my past trauma. But nope. It’s still there. It felt uncomfortable–hard but familiar.

A flood of feelings accompanied it, memories of a life I lived a million years ago. Memories of the kick of a Smith & Wesson .38 Special. The scorching burn of Crown Royal sliding down my throat. The fuzzy numbness of a beer buzz. A seething anger just beneath the surface ready to jump into action at the first sign of a threat. I could even feel my eyes become narrower, focusing like laser beams, looking for danger. I wanted to pull my hair back out of my face–or at least harden it with hairspray–maybe even cut it off again. I instantly became harder. I wore that armor all day. I listened to ZZ Top, the Allman Brothers, more Skynyrd. I got through the day.

Culturally Created Self

As I write, I feel better, but I haven’t discarded the protective sheath yet. I’m not ready to go back to the open vulnerability that I have been able to access here in Ecuador. I have to deal with some things right now, and I can’t if I’m soft and vulnerable. I can’t afford to fall apart.

But this experience has me wondering about this Culturally Created Self we all carry with us. When you work on healing and evolving, you’re going to explore who you are, who you have been, who you want to become. Moving to another country certainly helps you dive straight into your Authentic Self. Confronted with new experiences every day, you observe your honest reactions and question everything you previously thought. You eventually work back to the original person you came into this life as. I have spent the past year expanding and settling into my new life, allowing my inner child to emerge and play, encouraging my Divine Feminine to bloom.

Crisis as Catalyst

I’ve had some health issues these past few months, I became a godmother, I helped some animals that were suffering, and when my friend fell and broke his arm five weeks ago and then discovered that the bone is dying and he needed emergency surgery, something in me cracked. And the old Karen came out of the depths of my being to handle the crisis. I thought she was healed, transformed, and completely gone. But the series of unfortunate events I’ve experienced the last couple of months catapulted her to the forefront of the shitshow that was unfolding before me. She’s still part of me apparently, awaiting a crisis that will summon her to the surface once again.

I’m wondering how many of you find yourself slipping in and out of your old selves? Do you sometimes feel like an interdimensional being traveling back and forth through time to various stages of development in your life? Do you sometimes slide sideways into a completely different version of yourself you’ve never met before? Are we all of these people? Are we none of these people? Do we all resort to our old, familiar selves when security crumbles?

Interestingly, I have learned enough in my life that I don’t want to return to all the old habits. I don’t drink or smoke anymore, for example. But that hard part of me that I created still exists. I find that interesting.

Merely Players?

I’m not sure how long I’ll have to wear this harder version of myself. I don’t really like her, but I know she can get shit done and take care of business. And I’m grateful to her for that.

Maybe Karina Andina can come out and play a little while as my friend visits from the U.S. this week in the middle of the catastrophe. Maybe I can slip in and out of the many roles life requires of me right now. Maybe Shakespeare was right: “All the world’s a stage, / And all the men and women merely players; / They have their exits and their entrances; / And one man in his time plays many parts . . . .” The trick, I think, is just remembering who you truly are beneath all the characters you wear.

Whether you’re an expat or not, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the culturally created self and authentic self. How are you continually evolving and devolving?