Finding identity

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. A study I've been doing talks about identity, about challenging those notions of who you are to determine who you truly are meant to be.

Our identities are made of so many things. They're relational to others, to our jobs, to our residence, to our cultural status, to our beliefs, to our gender, to our race, to so many things. But that's not the whole picture, right? Are we reduced to our existence in relation to others?

I think, in part, that is our identity. But if that's where we stop, that's not the whole story. That's not the whole of who we are.

Maybe it takes losing a big part of that identity to realize this. I certainly feel I've undergone an identity shift in the last few years since losing Jim. I experienced an earlier one in the years after losing my job at The Advocate.

I'm certainly not the "me" that people knew in high school -- thank goodness for that -- or in college -- pretty grateful for that, too.

Sometimes, I think I'm not sure who I am anymore.

For Christians, we find a big piece of our identity in our faith. I'm sure others of other faiths see this as well. It's a piece of the puzzle, to be sure. It's a piece that I have no doubts about myself.

Additionally, I would say I'm a step or bonus mom, a wife and now widow, a daughter, a sister, an aunt. I'd say I'm a small business owner, a dog mom, a writer, a crafter and creator. But beyond that, the real me? I'm not sure my past self would recognize her.

Michelangelo's David

I do think our identity changes over time. Some think we become new and different versions of ourselves. I used to think that way. But I'm not sure that's it either.

Sometimes I think that our life changes, our "identity crises," are really just a way for us to find the person we always were, the person hiding under all those extra qualifiers we use. Like a sculptor attempting to carve away at the clay to find the statue underneath.

"The sculpture is already complete within the marble block, before I start my work. It is already there, I just have to chisel away the superfluous material." ~ Michelangelo

I think this is why people who are unapologetically themselves are both admired and shunned. We are awed by the fact that they know who they are and make no apologies about it.

We are also uncomfortable with this. What right do they have to define themselves? Why do they get to buck this system we have used to define them?

It is human nature to categorize things. We want to define things -- that's why language works. We want things to fall into their categories and fit the definitions we apply. If they don't, it creates a sort of dissonance within us. We don't like it when things don't fit our boxes -- that's part of why high school has so much drama! We want things (and people) to stay in their box.

Words have meanings.

But words also only have the meanings we give them. This is why I find it interesting (I know, I'm a little bit of a dork) when people have such strong reactions to some words. I know there are socially acceptable phrases and there are words that "shouldn't" be spoken in certain spaces -- truly hurtful words, curse words, etc. Most of us understand these rules of society. I'm not talking about these words.

I'm talking about ordinary words to which we've assigned meanings and now we hate the words because we dislike the meanings.

To use one personal to me and my identity: I'm a widow. That's a word. It means that I am alive and my husband is not. It's a word that evokes a strong feeling from folks. It makes some people uncomfortable when I use it. For women who have to use it, it (figuratively) guts them. I hate the meaning -- I truly do -- but I don't hate the word. Because it's just a word. Changing it doesn't change the meaning, although some women try to.

Anyway, as much as I hate the meaning behind the word, that is is a word that is part of my identity. It's a word that's used to define and categorize me, as much as the other words are.

But it also lends to a deeper part of my personal identity. It's part of my story of love and loss. It's part of what shapes how I see others, how I try to treat others, and lends to my clarity of life.

Every January, it seems people try to give themselves a new identity. They decide to start new and change themselves. And usually, before month's end they have reverted and given up whatever new and different thing they attempted. For real, Jan. 10 is Quitter's Day.

I'm not sure what this says at large about our identities. Maybe we can't force ourselves to change because of a calendar? Maybe it has something to do with having to change because life changes us or because change requires a deeper effort than a New Year's Resolution?

"To progress again, man must remake himself. And he cannot remake himself without suffering. For he is both the marble and the sculptor. In order to uncover his true visage he must shatter his own substance with heavy blows of his hammer." ~Alexis Carrel

Maybe because, as Carrel says, it requires a bit of suffering. And we don't enjoy suffering, so we go for the path of least resistance to stay comfortable.

I know I don't make those fitness resolutions for a reason! I have made other big lofty plans. You can read my post from Dec. 2023 if you want to see what I mean about that. And no, I still haven't finished that book. (Sorry Heather!)

But I do think we need to remember to take time for self-reflection. Because if we fail to do that, we wake up one day and realize we no longer know ourselves at all. Sometimes, that's a good thing, sometimes we were so busy uncovering the person we were meant to be. But sometimes that's a bad thing. Because we do sometimes pick up extra layers of dirt and muck. We don't shed the skin, but instead pick up coverings to mask who we are or the dings life has hit us with -- we try to mask our identities, too.

But that's not healthy. That's not being truly you.

So, friends, who are you?

And more so -- who do you want to be?

That same study I've been doing asked these questions today, which I think are relevant to figuring out our identities:

1. What would you regret not doing before you die?
2. When you die, what is the legacy you will leave behind?

Because in the end, a lot of who we are boils down to this. What kind of life do you want to live and what kind of legacy do you want to leave?

Recently, a friend of mine passed. He was someone I had kind of lost touch with, as it goes, but I still knew he was the kind of friend I could ask for help from and I hope he knew that of me. He was the kind of guy who lived each day to the most and was unapologetically himself. He was comfortable with who he was in every way.

I always admired that about him. Everyone who met him, knew that about him. He definitely made an impression.

I want to be more like that. I want to live more like that. And I hope that's the kind of legacy I leave when I'm gone -- someone who lived life knowing who she was, whose she was, and left no doubts to those around me.

So I ask you:

What is your identity?

What is your legacy?