Labels

My life and the labels used to describe it don’t define me.  My life is what I make of it and is described by how I define those labels.  Mother is one of my labels, but what does that mean?  To me that meant I didn’t work full time until my youngest was four.  To someone else that means being a working mom right from the start.  Which one is better?  It’s not for me to decide; I need to choose one for myself.  The label, widow, also describes me, but what does that mean?  To me it means my best friend died way too soon and is missed so much.  There are many labels, like nationality (Indian), religion (Muslim, Christian), and skin color, but what does that mean?  Are you married? If so, I should ask, what does that mean to you, because what that means to me doesn’t matter.  I am a person, therefore who I am is personal, in contrast to a label which is not.  I can choose labels for others, but I cannot trust my preconceived notions of what that means.  I can’t just choose a label for myself; I must also choose its meaning.