Seasonal Changes

So I've been thinking and writing a lot lately.

As a journalist in a local paper I have to be versitile. Writing in the same little town that you were raised in also poses some interesting situations. Like a source being one of you best friends mothers (not too hard to get around). Or knowing someone involved in a crime you're covering.

Anyone who has lived in a small town knows about this. Knowing both the good and bad things about someone, but still having to relate to them in one way or another.

I've noticed that the closer I get to a source I know, the less critical I get. It's natural. Most of the time I can get someone else to cover for me when it gets too close. I have not gotten into trouble, yet...

I've also been thinking about being a public person. I'm used to being recognised. I'm used to people I don't know having opinions about me. I hope they treat me with the same courtesy that I treat them. I'm not so sure. All that I can rely on are the good ones.

Lately I have been writing a bit about identity. I've always thought that being the only person im my country with my name has made me vounerable. Apparently not. When it comes to identity theft at least. Having a unique name means you don't blend, and so I'm not interesting to potential theifs. The drawbacks of having a unique name were pretty clear to me when, after a particularliy grusomme story, my previous editor in chief wanted to know if he should tell the police to drive by my house a few times that weekend. I declined.

It's tough when it gets personal.

When I got a call from a businessmans wife wanting to know why I wanted to hurt her husband it felt like a punch in the gut. Fortunately I managed to communicate with her in spite of wanting to pretend to be someone else. I'm very used to confronting sources, and also being confronted myself. But that's easy when I'm the professional journalist. Harder when I'm only me.

It might be the season slowly morfing into darker evenings and rusty colours. But I find myself thinking about where my life is now, where I want it to go, and how I will get there.The last year, for various reasons, has been like a changing season in my life. Me morfing from one person to another.

And.

Plonk.

Right when I needed it.

This amazing oppertunity crosses my path.

And it makes itself hard to miss.

So suddely I'm off to Denmark for the weekend. Most of the people around me think it's the most crazy thing I've done since I coloured my hair blue.

But I'm so sure. It is so right. Meeting kindred souls in the world is not as easy as one thinks (although I'm exceptionally lucky to have met quite a few in my relatively short lifespan).

Four people ready to get to know me.

Not the journalist, or childhood friend, or mum, or girlfriend, or collegue, or public person, or any of the other roles...

But me.

Only me.

And I'm sure I'll find friends for life.