French philosopher René Descartes declared, “I think, therefore I am.” I have never had an issue with the initial claim of this assertion, but the conclusion has – in my opinion – always been open to conjecture. Who I am, what makes me, me, and what is the essence of me, have been perennial puzzles for most of my life. As a kid I would often lie awake in bed pondering what it felt like to be me. I have written about identity on many occasions, although if I condensed these reflections down to a primary presumption, I would cite that character is a direct result of circumstances: heritage, family values – especially during the formative years – culture, education, friendships, and geographical locations.
As a man, I have never questioned my identity with reference to that term alone. I have always considered that my gender is fixed. Nevertheless, my individuality has seen many changes ─ for example, through the influences of further education, work (predominantly as a police officer), marriage and later loss, but most fundamentally, when I became a father. All of these impacts have been experienced and negotiated within one stable context – being a man. At a stretch, I can imagine what it may be like to be a woman, but the thought
