Who Are You

I am three things. And maybe more.

I teach. There’s nothing like the moment a student’s eyes light up — confusion giving way to understanding, that spark that tells you something has clicked. Mathematics isn’t impossible. It’s a key, and I just help open the door. I’ve seen students sit quietly, heads bent, unsure if they’ll ever get it. And then, suddenly, they do. Their smile says more than words ever could. That’s why I teach — because guiding someone to see what they couldn’t before is like handing them a small piece of light. Teaching gives me purpose. It humbles me. It reminds me that patience builds confidence and that learning, no matter how small, is always a victory worth celebrating.

I write. Writing lets me be who I cannot be in real life. I build worlds. I command the characters. I make them laugh, hurt, and triumph — all while leaving my everyday self behind. When I write, I am fearless. I explore places, ideas, and emotions I would never dare in reality. In writing, I am the storyteller, the architect of lives, the keeper of truth and imagination. There is a freedom in it — a joy in creating a world where everything, even pain, has meaning. Every word I type is a heartbeat of my thoughts, a quiet way of saying, I was here. Writing gives shape to emotions I cannot always name aloud. It’s how I make sense of the world and how I let the world make sense of me.

I cook. And it’s never just food. It’s experimenting, surprising myself, seeing someone’s face light up when they taste it. The smells, the colours, the textures — they speak a language of joy. I’ve had days where a recipe didn’t go as planned, but somehow, the dish found its rhythm, and the first bite brought a smile. That’s more than satisfaction. It’s pride, happiness, and connection all rolled into one. Cooking for me is a conversation without words — a way to nurture, share, and celebrate life’s small victories. It reminds me that love doesn’t always need to be spoken; sometimes, it’s served warm on a plate.

These three roles — teaching, writing, and cooking — are strands in the fabric of my identity. They define me, yes, but they do not confine me. I am also a learner, a dreamer, a thinker, a person who sometimes doubts but keeps moving forward. I am not only these three things; I am all the moments, the choices, the quiet reflections that hold them together.

And this brings me to my question — who are you?

Do you define yourself through just one lens? One label? One skill? Life has room for more than a single identity. It has room for layers, contradictions, and passions you may not even have discovered yet. You may be a parent and a painter. A coder and a poet. A thinker and a dreamer. You may carry worlds inside you that no one else sees.

So tell me — who are you? What lights you up, what brings you peace, what challenges you to grow? How do you balance the different parts of yourself?

I’ve shared mine. Now I want to hear yours. Write it down. Say it aloud. Reflect on it. Because knowing who you are is not just about titles or skills — it’s about the moments, the feelings, and the joys that make you feel alive.

I am teaching. I am writing. I am cooking. But above all, I am a storyteller of life — mine, yours, and the countless unseen stories that shape us all.

So again, I ask: who are you?