Amy Tan wrote, "I did not lose myself all at once. I rubbed out my face over the years washing away my pain, the same way carving on stone are worn down by the water.”
She is right. That is why the process is so insidious. One day
we simply do not know who we really are because day by day, year by
year, layer by layer that unique individual – that child who was I – is
buried in the silt of life’s rushing river.