It is not uncommon in my world to be approached about being a woman who is bald. I can't be defensive, annoyed or upset about this. Lets be honest, I'm a woman in my mid-thirties, who happens to be completely hair-free. People will be intrigued and want to know why I don't have any hair, especially children who are naturally more inquisitive.
I have to admit to a certain amount of confusion of late. I was asked recently by a friend 'what' I considered myself. I live in Scotland and here, in the run up to the referendum on independence next autumn, most people are trying to figure out, in essence, if they're more Scottish than British or vice versa.
What are we? English? Welsh? British? Are we bothered? Most of the time our "identity", national, religious or whatever, probably isn't at the top of our list of concerns. But sometimes circumstances come along which make us less secure in ourselves, less able to take our place in the world quite so much for granted.
Foresight suggests that we have no 'identity' as such; we have multiple identities - social, religious, ethnic, national, and so on - which together make up the self: and whichever identity we might think is most relevant to us at any given moment can change. When a toddler is pushing banana into my ear on the sofa, that's a different facet of me than the person I am in a meeting at work.