What does it feel like to be you?

Today is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. I am guessing, but this weekend they played the movie "The Help" on TNT due to that holiday. I remember reading the book and then watching the movie and crying during both. Knowing that this time of white supremacy really wasn't so long ago in the south really became apparent. And truly it still exists in many places and hearts. It hurt my heart to read/see little ones ignored by their mothers and people hired to be in one's home with such little respect and kindness. The end makes me cry as the main character must walk away from the little girl she was raising and loving. She has a powerful monologue that made me think about a couple things.
1. Writing was used as a powerful character in that book. Seems redundant, but the book written showed how powerful and cathartic writing is in times of conflict, emotional or physical.
- I agree! The times I am compelled most to write are usually preceded by a heart string plucked, a temper boiling, and moments of triumph or brokenness.
2. The movies ends with a monologue in which she states, "No one asked me what it felt like to be me before." Now I might be a little to fragile right now to answer that question with a smidge of objectivity (but who needs that), but it got me thinking. It's different than asking someone how they feel or who they are. It is a combination that requires some brutal honesty and vulnerability. The women in the story "The Help" were brave enough to reflect, laugh and cry their way through that answer. What does it feel like to be me? What does it feel like to be you?

And would you share your stories/answer if the author couldn't be anonymous?