Constructing Identity

Recently I’ve been entangled with the concept of building reality; what is involved in putting the pieces together that in total construct the idea of experiences, of interactions, of the concept of woman for example, and of the self. After my mom’s passing, as if it marked go-time, I began to build a new chapter, a step into an improved me. I envisioned a prototype of the human I wanted to be here on this planet with this finite allotted time, in order to build the best version of myself that could continue my mom’s legacy. It was both a challenge and a duty. By taking actions that fit the mold of this higher human prototype version, I really practiced becoming something and someone I wanted to be. At the time, following the cues of a higher thing, a greater beyond, made life feel like anything was possible.

Five years later, on a rainy day I sit to reflect on how this identity has continued to be constructed, what pieces make up the self that I see and describe, as well as how relationships with community, the people I emotionally engage with, feed back into this constructed identity that exists both in the mind of myself and of others. 

My current exploration of building identity is a process of questions that go something like this: After your death, how would someone describe you? and how would you want to be described? How were these assumptions made and confirmed? Ultimately, identity is the why of how you want to be described. In other words, if you hope to be x, why?

Community, the personalities and hearts I keep in touch with on a variety of regular intervals, the friends that I connect to each other, has become central to who I am and I’m sure my mom felt similarly. In remembering my mom and her community, most striking was noticing certain friends whom she considered near and dear that left a permanent stamp on her life’s story that did not show up to her funeral and the gaggle of folks that lived vibrantly through certain dramatic chapters of her lifetime that did. How did they each remember her, or rather, who was the character they made? How did we each make her or see ourselves through a relationship to her?

Perhaps the people that she felt closest to did not come because they felt a one-on-one bond with her and found their individual ways to say goodbye, or perhaps they had outgrown their relationship with her in a way that her memory or construction of them had not. She was someone that had tended to be a confidant, an open ear, a generous hand in a time of need, which also meant that her interactions and relationships were special to her because of the very fact that they involved parts of peoples’ identities that generally weren’t displayed outwardly. I see my mom-- I have constructed my understanding of her -- as one to have enjoyed being the secret friend on some level. To build this view of her, somewhere in my own built identity, I had to empathize with the role she played in those relationships. Both my mother and myself strove to share the most holistic understandings of ourselves with each other as we could. This proved pretty detrimental, but zooming out, it's clear we were seeking to grow with each other's feedback, to be accepted and to ultimately make sense of ourselves to ourselves.

There are people and relationships we choose to share different aspects of our identity with, and this, in Psychology research, is called the Relational Self. It studies identity building as a negotiation between what exists naturally in the deep Self that seeps out in certain scenarios and actively creating a self that wants to be seen in a certain way with certain people. The best way I can explain the concept of the relational self is to ask, how or who do you want to be when writing an email to a friend versus, a coworker, Grandma, an idol? All the voices are you, but is there one that is most you? What is this identity at its core if there is one?

Often times we build identity around our history. "I survived this" or "I was a victim of that" are stories we attach to in order to make sense of experiences, but to what extent do they define who we each are? Branding directors and life gurus alike preach storytelling and re-telling. Some call it “flipping the script” and this without a doubt can be therapeutic and necessary in certain times. On the flip side, it can be all too easy to become victim to our definitions, to allow our identifiers to excuse behavior or even unconsciously entrap us within modes of thinking that become comfortable and deleterious to further building and growth. This is perhaps the stickiest part of constructing identity, because it affects how we see and therefore interact with the world. If I am an alcoholic and this is a part of my identity, for example, this label can serve as liberation from shame, secrecy, guilt and confusion. It can serve as a way to understand myself better. It can serve as chains to these concepts and behaviors tied to them. It can be a reminder of strength, of working with struggle. It can be the lens that separates me from my environment or that brings me closer to community.

Labels are a starting point of growth, of building and often of healing so that we can reach a point where we are ready to understand why we are drawn to those aspects, why those labels or stories bring out the strength, compassion, deliberateness or other elements we crave to embody further, to build out more. Identity construction then, can ultimately be a way to find the Self and in spiritual terms, to find Union between all our different facets and to a greater whole. Imagine identifying as an athlete or as an olympic medalist. Who are you then? Who could you be? How would you act? How would you approach your environment?

We live in an interesting time of labels, where identity for many is built on the foundation of career. I am a blogger, a designer, a fitness coach, for example. People used to say, I am in x line of work, or I coach, design or write. The I was not identified as the job holder, but rather, shared how it spent time or made ends meet. Nowadays, the concept or heuristic that career or job title bring to mind is inseparable from how we imagine that person to act in other areas of their existence. Especially here, in NYC, going to any talk with panelists, the discussion often starts with introducing each personality by a long list of professional titles. From there, we get an idea of and construct a character we believe them to be based on a single aspect since assume this single aspect spills into and accounts for how all areas of his or her life is expressed. In reading "about the author" next to a byline, it's rarer and rarer to see information, such as the interests, experiences or philosophies that influence one's work; it's even quirky to add actual things about oneself like "enjoys his neighborhood farmer's market on weekends." In this cultural climate, how would one be identified for doing so? Down to earth or real? or trying too hard? boring? sweet?

I caught myself, busy with work this morning wanting to send a text to a person I hadn’t spoken to in a few months, simply because she crossed my mind. It’s like a drunken urge to talk, to create a connection, leave a meaningful mark no matter how small-- it’s what I do. After all, when I receive a “thinking of you” message, it feels good, so why not spread that essence toward someone else? Thinking "I should reach out to him" or "I wonder how she is doing" happens to most people, and mostly we tend to let the thought pass rather than act on it. But the itching thought returned: who am I-- what is life worth -- without my impact on and experiences with people in this world? And why is the urge to nurture relationships so central to who I am?

For me, upkeeping relationships has far less to do with combatting loneliness or craving the noise of people around me (because frankly, I adore my alone time and crave it more often than anything else. Explorative alone time, in fact, is a quality I also strongly associate with my identity, for to me, it reflects independence, curiosity, confidence, taking care of myself); Prioritizing relationship has more to do with filling out my ideal prototype identity, and being remembered as someone who connected people, who cut past the BS of social constructs and who spread the love she had-- all aspects of my mom’s identity that I admired.

To break identity down, I started with asking, who am I beyond relationships? I am driven. I want to be grounded. I am concerned, I like to be concerned; it means I care about the state of things. Driven means I care about acting on these concerns. These are a few simple concepts that come to mind when contemplating an identity that I am proud of, that feel “me.” They help fill out the prototype shell, which is key in creating, building, manifesting anything. Building is an additive process, unlike perfection which is a shaving off, deleting or forcing to fit. Constructing identity is like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. You try different pieces with different parts; sometimes they look like they’d make sense, but then once you try them, sometimes they don’t entirely fit. We try new things, activities, scenes, music, dress, all in an attempt to concretize pieces of our identities, to solidify parts of the mystery of self. Maybe we find a piece that sticks or rings true to our notions of Self that we can then outwardly express and play with. In this sense, being in public is a personal scientific testing of identity. Does it really work? Does it really feel "me?" Am I really this kind of person or this way?

Relationships act as mirrors and teachers by reiterating what is most important in one’s life as well as which ideas or boundaries rub leave a bitter taste. They are opportunities to give and to receive, both of which are necessary to practice humanity, for the contrary is a numbing, static existence. This is the feedback loop of constructing self and seeing it through various angles and points of view and is what allows us to grow but also can be what magnetizes us to stagnation or being stuck in bad habits or patterns. Relationships can be healing and enable expansion of our identities, by bringing us closer to ideas that we never thought we'd be open to, for example. The commitment and time relationships require, however, can just as well distract from growth or building other parts of identity. 

Recently I have noticed the toll of up-keeping relationships that I've tagged as important has taken on from constructing other parts of my identity. I am generally the one who travels to visit family, who all live in different parts of the country and require separate visits. Efforts add up; the energy, time, money spent to get to these places and faces take work. That work takes away from aspects of my life that are necessary, healthy and fundamental to ways in which I fundamentally see myself, or how I would like my evolved prototype identity to manifest. As much as I identify as a proponent of relationships over office time and career, I have fallen into the trap of this identifying quality: putting relationships first, ahead of ambitions that I crave to realize and make part of my identity. Time to build out.

The identity I seek to fill out sets aside quality time with loved ones, but has healthy boundaries, understanding and big personal goals to act on. This me has tangible samples of the design work and research that I am conducting, personal proof that I am making progress and building something; that I am not just empty words, hopes, dreams; that my promises are real. Embodying these concepts is important because of my particular experiences and because they have honed what I understand to be my morals , emotional needs and expectations.

Though the metaphor of shedding old skin remains popular when beginning a personal next chapter of identity, as does the idea of ridding, destroying or "out with the old in with the new" constructing identity is an additive process. Too often idealization is equated with chasing perfection, a process of shaving down, deleting parts, of forcing fits. Construction begins with noticing what we are drawn to, adding that into our lives, then assessing how that feels to us internally and looking for the core of why that identifying feature seems like a fit. On the contrary, perfectionism, in all its shine and though many of us strive to be “perfect,” tends to be how others see us, and doesn’t start with how we’d like to see ourselves or what it feels like when something really is "me."

I am creative. I am organized. I have it together. I am a mess. I am fit. I am someone who likes cooking. I am someone who enjoys activities by myself. I am honest. I am responsible. I am someone who likes to entertain. I am giving. I am in the moment. I am an anxiety monster. I am not needy. I am open-minded. I am humble. I am a dreamer and a doer. I am a California girl. An traveller. A podcast listener…. what will we each make of this?