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I’ve been having some captivating conversations around the concept of personal identity recently. What it means conceptually, whether or not it’s interchangeable, how it can develop over time, how it can be both freeing and entrapping and how conflict in it can be a physically uncomfortable experience.
From these conversations, I’ve come to solidify my own thoughts and opinions on the idea of it as being ever-changing, occasionally perplexing, but definitely worth contemplating. This is an outlook of what identity means for me, how it evolves, and why it can be both liberating and confining.
The Fluidity of Identity
At its core, identity is a complex blend of qualities, beliefs, personality traits, appearance, and expressions that define who we are. The intriguing part? It can be a product of our own self-definition or shaped by external perceptions. But truthfully, the only opinion that truly matters is the one we give ourselves.
Pause for a moment and consider your past self – the version of you from five years ago. Chances are, you've undergone some serious transformations since then. Even looking at the version of you from a year ago, you might not recognize yourself at all. Our ever-evolving experiences sculpt our self-view and the outward image we project. We do not stay the same. Change, it seems, is our constant companion.
Liberation in Fluidity
We have the opportunity to embrace the freedom that comes with the fluid nature of identity. We have the power to define ourselves in a fleeting moment, and if we want to, flip the script whenever we please. Gone are the days of being locked into a single persona for a lifetime. We're more like walking scrapbooks, adding in and piecing together different storylines as we evolve.
Picture this: you can switch up your appearance – cut, dye, or restyle your hair. Your wardrobe? Sell some pieces online, donate others to charity and swap the rest out to match your changing style. More tattoos? Sure thing. Got some you're over? Zap, they're gone. And your actions? They do not live in permanence. Decide you're a marathon runner, and boom, you are. Change your mind? Just as easy.
Travel can also be a catalyst for a major identity transformation. Live abroad, immerse yourself in a new culture – suddenly, your world expands, and your outlook shifts. You can redefine what matters to you and how you perceive it. Do this again and again if you wish.
The Trap Door
On the contrary, sometimes, the pressure to conform to a predetermined identity can be suffocating and entrapping. The expectations forced upon us by our upbringing, surroundings, and societal norms can throw a spanner in our works. Other people’s ideals of who you are / should be can inhibit the freeing side of identity. It can feel like being stuffed into an ill-fitting box – you squirm, you resist, you want to escape.
This clash between who you're expected to be and who you truly are can be a physically uncomfortable tug-of-war, like a wrestling match with your own sense of self. When I have experienced these feelings over long periods of time, I’ve had to take relatively drastic steps. Moving country. Quitting jobs. Reassessing the people I surround myself with. You need to ask yourself - do I continue to endure the daily discomfort or take the bold, albeit challenging, step to break free now?
Unearthing Conflict in Unlikely Places
Out of the blue, identity conflict can emerge from the unlikeliest of corners. My own biggest struggle with identity comes from my home and my nationality. I am Irish (and quite proudly so), but sometimes I can feel like I’m not “Irish enough” back home. Why do I sometimes feel more "Irish" when I'm away from Ireland, like I need to amplify it to the world?
For me, it feels like a dance between appreciation and unfamiliarity. While I have a massive appreciation for Irish culture and history, it can also be something I struggle to identify with as I was not as exposed to it as others while growing up. I love my Irish roots, yet I feel I missed out on some of its intricacies. In those moments when Irish culture looms large – be it in sports, music, or history – imposter syndrome can rear its head. Like I don’t know enough and that I lack the right to form opinions. Although I could in theory learn about these things to mitigate this feeling, I can’t explain how counter-intuitive it feels to try to force myself to know and appreciate something that is meant to be a born part of me.
The Subtle Dissonance of Two Lives
Identity conflict can sprout in our very own backyards. I also feel like I straddle two worlds – the vibrant pulse of London and the familiarity of my home in Dublin, each pulling at my sense of self. When I return to my roots and step back on Irish soil, there's a subtle pressure to slide into the skin of the person I once was, as if time has, and should remain to stand still. The familiar streets, the faces that have known me for years – they whisper a subtle reminder of the person I used to be, urging me to be that person again. However, I am no longer her.
Figuring It Out Is Fine
Even as I navigate these conflicts I’ve come to realise it's okay to be a work in progress. Embracing the fluidity of identity means we're never fully finished, and that's the most beautiful thing. In a world where change is the only real constant, we are under no obligation to freeze-frame our identity or pledge undying allegiance to a singular version of ourselves. We are the designers of our own development. We can piece together pieces of our past and redirect onto new paths as circumstances reshape us. Each moment only adds depth and dimension to these new pathways.
A Journey Worth Celebrating
Our identity isn't a static destination and who we are isn't set in stone. Like a bad tattoo you can cover it up or get it removed. Like a questionable haircut you can let it grow out or shave it all off and start anew. Our identity is uniquely ours, shaped by our experiences, our wins and stumbles. We're building something that's entirely our own, painting our own individual canvas - one that's never truly finished. That's the beauty of it, is it not?
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