Who am I?

in

Deriving my sense of self, my identity from the people around me.

There, my friends are there,
I smiled as I hurried towards them,
wearing Happiness on my face.
Oh, my family!
Let's see...
must be Calm, Prudent and Responsible,
or they'll fret.
And, my colleagues, they're judging.
A bit of a Joker, a dash of Impertinence -
maybe a look of perpetual sleepiness? -
that'll be just right.
Settled, everything's settled.
A costume for each scenario,
with glitzy expressions to match.

People come and go, and my identity's in a constant flux.

No no, my family's meeting my friends!
Do I remain cool or
should I be joyful, bubbly?
And why did they - my school mates -
visit my work place uninvited,
unannounced and unwanted?
How do I deal with it?!
I fingered each mask, trembling.
I wore one while facing one friend
and another while facing another.
Tired. Nervous.
Switching facades's not easy.
It's never easy.
After a day's work,
I could finally rest easy at home.

When I'm alone, that's when I don't know who I am.

The spotlights blinked, dulled
then disappeared.
Sighing, I shed all the costumes,
threw the aching bag of
accessories in one corner,
and rested my weary soul.
My eyes softly closed,
my breathing became even...
My thoughts stilled,
my body relaxed.

I jolted awake,
bolted upright.
What am I?

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