Introduction
“Hi, I’m Kyla Bishop. This is my land.”
That’s a favorite story about me from my childhood friend, Sammy. When we were in the 3rd grade, she moved to Leoti, Kansas - where I’m from - and this is how I introduced myself to her after climbing on the bus, seeing a new face, and sitting myself down on her seat and scooching her over toward the window until there was enough room for me to comfortably sit beside her, with my hand held out and a big smile on my face.
So that was how 8-year-old me introduced myself to complete strangers.
When I was in high school/college, if I found myself around people who likely knew my parents/grandparents, it was hand outstretched…cause that’s how we do it the Midwest still…"I’m Kyla Bishop, Kelly & Chris’ girl,” or “Ken Bishop’s granddaughter.” Complete strangers - much like 8-year-old me - just a little less invasive of someone’s personal space, with the exception of an outstretched right hand.
Once I got married it was, “Hi, I’m Kyla Bi…Owens,(it took me a little bit to get used to having a different last name), Paden’s wife! This was the biggest life milestone that I had dreamed about forever that I had finally reached. Someone had picked me for better, for worse, forever and I was so proud of my new last name and title of wife.
My other biggest dream came true on November 18, 2015 when our first son was born and I officially earned my other favorite title. Nowadays…I’ll still stretch my right hand out to introduce myself to someone if I can string a coherent sentence together and I’m not physically wrestling a toddler that has all the fight and physical finesse of a baby alligator to say, “Hi, I’m Kyla, (insert one of my five children’s names here)’s mom.
It’s funny how as we move through the seasons of our lives that we change what and who we identify ourselves by. We tend to kind of lose that 8-year-old confidence of being 100% comfortable in being exactly who we are and saying, “I’m __________,” without any other attachment.
Now, don’t misunderstand, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing at all. It’s just interesting to me the people, the places, the things that we attach ourselves to as we move through life and what pick up and pick out to be part of our identity. Those things matter because they affect us - good, bad, or otherwise.
With those attachments come anchors to the past, yours or your family’s.
Judgments. Assumptions. Pre-conceived notions. Histories.
In the moment - anticipation, maybe some apprehension because meeting people can be hard.
For the future, hope of a new acquaintance or friendship, someone to share burdens and successes with.
So, whether we’ve met face-to-face before or we’re complete strangers…
“Hi, I’m Kyla. I’m blessed you’re here.”
First blog post down, whew. I hope you’ve enjoyed my after-midnight introduction/ramble…For What It’s Worth!