This is who I am
Nancy Kennedy
Prior to her execution in 2002, serial killer Aileen Wuornos admitted to murdering six men. Yet she insisted her crimes did not reflect her true character: “This is not who I am.”
In September 2024, after Colt Gray was accused of killing two students and two teachers at a Georgia high school, his mother wrote to the victims’ families: “My son Colt is not a monster. He is my oldest baby…quiet, thoughtful, caring, funny and extremely intelligent.”
In other words: This is not who he is.
I’ve interviewed domestic abuse survivors who told themselves the same thing about their abusers: This isn’t who he (or she) is, even as they nursed fresh wounds.
The day after conservative activist Charlie Kirk was shot to death, The Bulwark ran a piece titled “Is This Who We Are?” about political violence in our nation.
“Violence increasingly defines us. But maybe not as much as how we choose to respond to it,” the authors wrote, noting the immediate blame and finger-pointing. “If we aren’t yet broken we surely seem hellbent on tearing ourselves apart. Can anything be done about this? Or are we too far gone already? Maybe we are doomed to spiral into increasingly violent cycles of recrimination and counter-recrimination, with both sides convinced all the way to their deathbeds that the other side is to blame.”
Because this is not who we are.
But it is who we are.
As human beings, we all carry the potential for great evil. People snap. To insist This is not who I am is self-deception. Who wants to admit their depravity? Better to pretend, right?
But the harder, truer confession is: This is who I am. A sinner in need of grace.
King David knew all about that. After committing adultery with Bathsheba, he arranged to have her husband killed. The longer he denied his sin, the more tormented he became:
“When I kept silent about my sin, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long” (Psalm 32:3).
Ask any mental health professional — guilt and shame wreak havoc on mind and body. That’s why people fall back on the coping mechanism: “I couldn’t possibly do that, even though I did.”
But David also knew the blessed relief of confession:
“For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me. Against you (God), you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight; so you are right in your verdict and justified when you judge” (Psalm 51:3-4).
What a model: honesty without excuse.
He also wrote, “Blessed [fortunate, prosperous, favored by God] is he whose transgression is forgiven, and whose sin is covered” (Psalm 32:1, Amplified Bible).
That is also who we are — or who we can be.
Freedom comes when we’re honest about ourselves—our thoughts as well as our actions. Who hasn’t, at least mentally, wanted to murder someone?
I love the promise: “If we confess our sins, [God] is faithful and just and will forgive us…and purify us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).
Faithful is who God is.
Forgiven and cleansed is who we are.
And when I admit my sin and receive his mercy, I can say with confidence:
This is who I am.Contact Nancy Kennedy at 352-564-2927 (leave a message) or email at nkennedy@chronicleonline.com.
