“So the new Ana is not a new person,” she said. “She is the old, buried one.”
She did not know if she was finally herself or finally many selves. She only knew that the question no longer terrified her. Personality, she had learned, is not a destination. It is the ongoing, messy, beautiful process of becoming. psihologija licnosti
“Please,” she said. “I’d like that.” “So the new Ana is not a new person,” she said
“Tell me about your mother,” said Dr. Lovro Markovic, a retired psychologist with wild eyebrows and a calm, unnerving smile. Personality, she had learned, is not a destination
She thought of her mother, a woman who had stayed in a miserable marriage for forty years because “that is what one does.” Ana had sworn at sixteen to be different. Instead, she had married a man like her father—stable, emotionally distant—and built a life of quiet resentment. The traits had been there all along: her high Neuroticism (anxiety, moodiness), her low Extraversion (draining social obligations), her high Openness (boredom with routine). The responsible Ana had been a mask. The red-haired Ana was a homecoming.
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