Defining oneself is probably one of the hardest things to do because we are our own worst critic. I remember the first time I really thought about my identity…It was on a rooftop in Hyderabad, India, in 2010; a philosophical friend asked into the pleasant, dark silence as we gazed at the stars, “Who am I?” My answer began with my name and sex; however, I was told that the former is an identifier given by someone else at birth and the latter an identifier blessed by the Gods…

So, who am I? How can I define myself when every word uttered is like a barrier formed by an archetype to which I had unknowingly subscribed? Today, I still do not have a definitive answer to this question as I am still in a state of change. Also, while words are a grand attempt, they also constrain me. However, for...

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