You are defined, put into a box, categorized.. labeled. Every facet of life bears a tag. Wife, husband, lover, son, friend, companion, Pagan, Christian, enemy, acquaintance. Words, words, words to pigeonhole, not just what you do, but who you are and how you feel.

When circumstances change, all that truly changes is the narrow definition. You wear a new tag. You may feel the same, but your box bears a new name. From pregnant to mother, girlfriend, to fianceé, to wife; lover to husband to ex. The person is unchanged... just another label.

Every minute, every hour, every day someone supplies your label. The eyes that look upon you, ascertain or guess your very essense and apply a tag, based on what they see. It may or may not be accurate, but it is how you are percieved. You will have to fight to change that tag, no matter how ill fitting to your garment, your persona, yourself.

You, yourself, apply these indicators. You choose how things are branded. If that changes or shifts, so does the label. If you can find no perfect match, you are lost.. confused.. and uncentered. You need to find another category... somehow... some way.

We say we hate them. We say we don't want them, but they are what they are. They describe, define, and give us a haven amoung those who bear that same tag. Labels, words, definitions, stereotypes. They are what they are... and we need them.

... whether we like to admit it or not.