On googling my name: my secret identities

 The search for one’s identity is developmentally a task for young adults. It includes such vital concerns as profession, marriage and family, and, basically, what a person will dedicate his/her life to. Time, relationships, successes and failures, and maturity are supposed to lead one to a solid sense of self. By the time old age sets in the person knows clearly who they are and what their place is in the general scheme of things.

Sound good? Well….

We all know it isn’t true. An older person is often as confused about it all as a youngster (meaning a 40-year-old). When we retire from our profession, it can feel like we’ve lost our basic identity. Purpose can fly out the window. Changes in family dynamics can leave us wondering who we are in relation to others. And downsizing can mean getting rid of precious stuff that helps define us. Too many changes!

Is this an exaggeration? Perhaps for some more settled folks, it is, but for many it’s a phase of growing older that’s painfully real. It’s that search for identity that goes deeper than what we do (or have done) or what we own (or used to own before we gave it away).

Now I’m going to switch from serious to silly (which is part of who I am). Several years ago I decided to see what the Internet had to say about me. I googled my name. The search reminded me of how common my name is. I discovered way too many sites to read them all, and most of them were not about me. It was hard to find me in all the Nancy Thomases scattered throughout the universe.

I did another search this week, just to see if things had changed. Some of the old Nancy Thomases were still around, with many new entries. I actually found myself, my real self, here and there, mostly with reference to a poetry book. But, for the most part, I am well hidden in the World Wide Web.

My search revealed that Nancy Thomas is a prodigious author. Along with the poetry, other books by Nancy Thomas include The Great American Afghan; The Great Tiki Drink Book; When Love Is Not Enough: A Guide to Parenting Children with Reactive Attachment Disorder; Infectious Diseases of Wild Birds; and Dandelions on My Pillow, Butcher Knife Beneath: The true story of an amazing family that lived with and loved kids that killed. I had no idea I was that versatile.

Searching the Internet is an interesting path to discovering identity. If someone met me, remembered my name, and then tried to find out more about me on the Internet, here’s what he might learn:

--that I am one of the leading authorities on parenting emotionally disturbed children.

--that I am a nationally-known contemporary folk-artist who paints, does ceramic figurines, sculpts, does hooked rugs and pins and stained glass. My birds are especially appreciated. My work can be viewed in the Nancy Thomas Gallery in Norfolk, Virginia. (You ought to come. I’m really good.)

--that I am a taxi driver in Milton, Vermont.

--that for many years I was the editorial voice of the most widely circulated knitting magazines, including Vogue Knitting and Family Circle Easy Knitting. (You ought to see my collection of silly Christmas socks.)

--that although I hold a degree in electronics and engineering, I am a story-teller at heart and believe that “writing is a door into a world of possibilities.”

--that I have been a non-dieting fat woman since 1976 and am one of the founders of the FAT LIP Readers Theater.

--that I own and run the Duncanville Feed Store in Texas.

--that I am a violinist with the National Symphony Orchestra; a gynecologist in Louisiana; a dermatologist in North Carolina; a licensed professor of jiu-jitsu; and an actress who most recently starred in the movie, “Assisted Loving,” about romance in a retirement home.

You would also discover that a wild iris is named after me. The “Nancy Thomas” is a bearded iris that is golden apricot in color, with a tangerine beard, and a slight fragrance.

There’s a lot more than what I’ve recorded above, but as they say (whoever “they” are), “enough is enough.”

Did you ever dream I was so versatile and accomplished? I’m certainly a multi-tasker.

Does all this help me come closer to solidifying my sense of identity? No, of course not. It does confirm my suspicion that I’m a somewhat silly person.

Actually, I’m now far enough down the road of retirement that I don’t struggle with identity issues. I try not to focus so much on who I am, but rather on who my neighbors are.

Both of my names, Nancy and Jane, are common. They both mean “grace.” I don’t think my parents knew that when they named me; Nancy and Jane were favorite aunts and cousins on both sides of the family. But they did indeed name me “Grace Grace,” God’s double-whammy grace child. That’s who I am. My unique name/person is etched on the palm of God’s hand, and God needs no search engine to find me.

God doesn’t need one to find you either.