Either I do this or I don't. I want to get rid of this page, delete all the past mistakes I've made and laid out for the world to see here but I don't know if I want to. There are so many fractured pieces of myself here, and every now and then I kind of like going back in and putting them together and picking them up, to try and remind myself that there's more to me than I admit, even to myself. 

I opened the door to a world of other people like myself here and that scares me because I know what normal is supposed to be and I know I don't fit that description. I also know that I want to meet and learn from and understand others like myself and why we can do what we can do and I want to know how to grow but I can't do that online. I'm going to college next year and I want to learn this...how do I put myself out to people, though? "Bulletin: freshman, thinks she's kinda psychicish and wants help developing powers..." 

Blah. Who fucking knows. I'm 17 years old and I'm in the first serious relationship of my life and I'm going to college and I'm going to become a doctor and help people and study people and I don't want to be tied down even though tonight he said "I want to spend the rest of my life with you" and my heart desperately wants to just make it official and say fuck it all, let's get engaged and I'll go through college and med school and you'll go through law school and we'll get our jobs and settle down and raise a family and I'm going to love you forever; but I can't. Because I don't want to settle down. I want to be on the road, I want to go where other people are leaving and I want to help the ones who are left behind, and I want to meet other ways of life head on and learn from them and speak their languages. I want to become fluent with the world: this is my calling, I know this, this is why I was born the way I was and this is what I'm going to do with my life. And I'm sorry for you, Jeremy, because I really do love you so, so much but I was not born to settle down and be the upper middle class family where the mom works at the hospital and the dad runs his own law firm and our kids are beautiful and smart but there's something missing because the mom could never put her whole being in it, because no matter what, no matter how much she adores you and adores the children you've had with her and desperately wants to just be completely happy, she will be longing for adventure and will know that her purpose does not lie there. And she might, although she would never forgive herself, she might leave and go find that adventure before she dies. And then you would hate her for doing what your mother did to your father and to you, and I will not destroy my family like that. 

Not saying I don't ever want children...I do. I really, really do. Just one, someday, but I want to live where there are many children and my child will fit in...I always picture this beautiful village in Kwazulu Natal, South Africa...right on the coast, in one of the fishing villages, where I would be the local doctor and I would raise my child there...its funny, actually, because there isn't always a husband in these dreams. Or a man in my life at all, just me and my daughter. Or son, sometimes, but most often a daughter. 

Ha, look at me, going back to ranting on xanga. It's funny how quickly this all comes back. God, I hope no one tries to trace me and finds this page...colleges, bosses...Jeremy...I really should delete this. There's too much here, too much I've given of myself...it's too dangerous to remain unprotected like this on the internet. All I can hope is that it isn't searched for because no one realizes it exists anymore...

I think I might retire this blog. I won't delete it, but I probably won't write in it much. I've been writing on this page for three years. That's a while.

When you're young, three years seems like an eternity. So much has happened since I began this xanga. I've changed so much, and the person I was when I began it hardly recognizes the person I am now.

I also feel like the connections I made through this blog have gone. Some of them I told to leave, others left on their own, and with some I've simply drifted away.

I could branch out. I could make new friends.

But I don't think I want to.

When I was standing on the National Mall, watching as Barack Obama became the 44th president, I think my head straightened itself out. I realized what my priorities are. And making new connections isn't one of them right now.

I like talking to people and I like learning from them.

But I am old enough now that I need to figure who I am.

When I made this xanga, the name Not Who You Think I Am seemed mysterious and fitting. I wanted to be someone new here, someone different. I was twelve years old and I wanted to seem much older and much more sophisticated. Now I don't. I am fifteen but I have never known what it is really like to be fifteen because of the childish urge to be older than I am. Now I see my childhood slowly disappearing. In 5 months I can start to drive. I have always measured the end of my childhood by my sixteenth birthday. And it's almost here.

In many ways I am still a child. There are so many, many things I have not seen and so many things I do not know. But I want to learn. I think just understanding how much I don't understand is a very unchildlike thought. Is this typical of a teenager? I couldn't say. I really don't understand what is expected of me- of any teen. I think I surprise people because I passionately care about certain things. Are people my age not supposed to care? I would love to be able to live the carefree, wild life that many of my peers are living. But at the same time, I would never be able to live that way. I need my head to be able to form coherent thoughts. I don't like the lack of control that a lot of others do.

So where that puts me, I really don't know. Not Who You Think I Am never really applied to other people thinking of me. I meant it to, but it has always applied to myself- me not being sure who I am.

I am suspending this blog until I can figure that out. I might check back now and then. Maybe not.

Catch ya on the flip side.

-Sommer Lynn Johansen

My legs scramble for purchase on the gym floor as I move back from the net. "Free ball!" someone screams. Adrenaline pumps wildly through me as I watch the ball crest the net. I feel my feet moving one more step back as a hand comes up and smashes the ball just to my right. I feel my arm shoot out in a desperate attempt to keep the ball from hitting the floor. My whole body seems to be moving to that point- and then time stops. I watch as the ball hovers above my hand. I try to push my arm just that centimeter but I've screeched to halt and go nowhere. No. No!As if someone hits PLAY, the ball smashes into the base of my hand and careens away from the court. I solemnly pull my arm back in as I hear the whistle blow. In the corner of my eye the ref fold his arms on his chest- Game Over.

I hate being the one to make the mistake.

Maybe I'm being too hard on myself. Maybe. I don't know. But it sucks balls when you lose the game for your team.