Who am I really? (Part 1 of 40)

To begin tackling the question, "Who am I really?" I have decided to start with the external, and then continue to the internal as the days progress. Let's look at the basics:

My name is Monique Yoder. I am an American, but claim a Swiss-German bloodline. I am five feet and three inches in height and have an obese figure. I have light brown/ashy blonde hair that, even to this day, I have a hard time accepting as the color of my hair. My eyes are hazel green and contrast with the blue eyes that my sisters have. I don't wear glasses as of yet, which is also in stark contrast to members of my immediate family. My skin is fair, but I'm slowly developing a healthy color from outdoor swims here in Oman. It's only when I develop such color that a patch of skin on the left side of my neck is exposed, revealing an area of lost pigmentation.

Battle scars - On my right hand, I have a 1.5-inch faded, yet prominent scar that I have had ever since I can remember. I don't remember being injured here, but it's been a part of me for the entire mental recording of my life. On the back of my left thigh, I have a very noticeable scar from the time that I had to get small pieces of the stalk of a woody plant surgically removed from my leg after a playing accident at a friend's birthday party when I was 9 years old. On the top of my left foot, I have a faded scar from the time when a shard of glass from a crystal butter dish sliced my foot during a Thanksgiving dinner when I was carrying the tray to the table and, in my sister's excitement watching the football game, her hand collided with said tray, causing it to break. On my forearms and outer parts of my upper arms, there are somewhat noticeable scars leftover from the 6 years during my youth during which I convinced myself that using shaving razors on my skin was a way to digest feelings that I didn't have the strength or knowledge at the time to process.

The clothing style I prefer is relaxed. T-shirts and jeans are most comfortable for me; however, I am developing a routine of long breathable skirts for my every day public attire now that I am in a modest clothes wearing society and the temperatures rarely dip below 10 degrees Centigrade. My choice in clothes expresses to some folks here in the Gulf, and they've told me this point-blank, that I am non-threatening and in solidarity with what they, as Muslims, believe to be the way God wants people to dress.

This is the external snapshot that I show the world everyday. The next installment of this series will focus on this snapshot in motion.