Identity Crisis Solved

With the goal of reaching a broader audience with my writing, this weekend I submitted an article to a large website.  Part of the application process required that I include a brief bio (merely 2-4 sentences) that the site could distribute if my post gets published.

People, I labored over those sentences.

How should I present myself?  I only had a few lines to establish my identity and capture the essence of who I am.  I acknowledged my professional life by noting that I was a teaching professor.  I indicated that I was a wife and mother.  I added that I was a DIY enthusiast who's yet to be discovered by HGTV.

All of this is true, but it only scratches the surface.

Next, upon request, I provided links to my blog's social media accounts.  Facebook, the tried-and-true social media platform for older generations, makes sense to me, so I linked to my blog's Facebook page without pause.  Then I added my Twitter account even though I'm the worst tweeter, an irony which belies my namesake because a person named Robin should be able to tweet confidently.  But I'm not confident on Twitter.  I don't think as quickly as Twitter moves.  I habitually forget to share my blog posts there, and I've never mastered the strategic use of hashtags.

#twitterfailure. #thisrobindoesnottweet. #twitterisbeyondme. #help.  

That led to sharing my Instagram, where, under the guidance of my 13-year-old, I created an account months ago, then did nothing else.  Nothing else.  Not one picture has been posted.  Even worse, I couldn't recall my password, which led to another entry on my week's to-do list: "Figure out Instagram."

With each separate platform, I painstakingly mulled over how I should represent myself.  If I strive to reach DIY-loving audiences on some platforms, how does that blend with the parenting theme that permeates many of my blog posts?  What aspect should I emphasize where?  And when can I mention that I'm funny, because, for the love!, with the exception of the unfolding identity crisis that manifested itself during this "submit-a-brief-bio" adventure, I'm a humorist at heart.

(Yep, that clears it up tidily: I am a Christian faith-based wanna-be comedian who primarily blogs about daily life, including parenting, but I really enjoy spray painting things, yet occupationally, I am a professor.  In other words, I'm about as focused as a dog with a chew toy who gets distracted by a squirrel.)

So there I sat, slightly hyperventilating, my fingers tensely poised above the keyboard.  If a 2-4 sentence biography wildly limits how you capture your identity, then the converse is apparent with social media where the possibilities of how to frame your persona are endless.

Therein lies the rub: I'm a person who loves to write, yet I do so across broad themes where humor, faith, and daily life intersect, rather than having a highly-tailored niche.  Plus, I grapple with finite time and limited online capacity because I raise three kids, work a full-time job, have problems remembering my passwords, and suffer from #twitterineptitude, so the idea of establishing a thriving social media presence to promote my blog seems daunting at best, suffocating at worse.

Whose bright idea was it to reach a broader audience with her writing, anyway? 

And that's where I was stuck -- wondering whether I should become a hermit, pondering if it's worth pursuing growth as a blogger, overthinking dramatically -- when I arrived at church yesterday morning.  That's when we sang these lyrics:
Who the Son sets free,
Oh, is free indeed.
I'm a child of God,
Yes I am.

I am chosen, not forsaken.
I am who You say I am.
You are for me, not against me.
I am who You say I am.
I am who You say I am.

These lyrics resonated with every fiber of my being.  Even when writing just a brief bio, I could spend all the time in the world thinking about how to present myself.  I could look inward to my personal traits and characteristics, growing myopic with the self-analysis, or I could look outward to analyze all possible potential audiences and connections online, growing paralyzed with the unending scope.

But clarity comes when I look upward.  What really matters is who God says I am.

And God would say that I'm deeply loved, forgiven, chosen, and favored.  He knows about my teaching and my roles as a wife and mother.  He understand my desire to spray paint anything that doesn't move, and He grasps that a favorite compliment is when someone tells me that I'm funny.  He understands the intricacies of my thoughts and heart better than I understand them myself.  He even follows my blog.

So, in 2-4 sentences, who am I? 

I'm a child of God.  I am who He says I am.


  1. Oh Robin, you always know how to say (so eloquently) what's on my heart. I struggle with this identity thing too. In fact, just yesterday, I was reading a Christian book that encouraged me to be rooted in the victory of being a child of God, rather than cling to the lies that the world and Satan bestow upon us (often wrought with shortcomings and doubts).

    Thanks for sharing these encouraging words today my friend. You are a blessing.

    xo Jennifer

    PS - I just followed you on Instagram. No pressure for you to post a picture or anything. LOL

    1. Jennifer, you always know how to encourage so genuinely! When I post on Instagram, I'm so glad you'll be there to see it. :) Ha!

  2. Robin, I absolutely love this and you had me laughing throughout the post! I love your writing - how you explained a simple battle that goes on in a bloggers head that can become so complicated, lol! ��Your ending is so beautiful!

    1. So glad that it resonated with you, Denise!


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