Featured imaged credit: Maksym Kaharlytskyi on Unsplash
What does finding yourself even mean? Is it different to different people, or is it a universal thing? What part of you does it relate to: your personality, your physicality, your psychology, your beliefs, your opinions? Or is it all of those and more?
When I stand in front of a mirror, I’m not sure what I see. I can tell you my name and my date of birth. But sometimes I feel as if that is all I know for sure about myself.
I follow no religion but I believe in a higher power. I hold mostly liberal views but place myself in the centre of the political spectrum. I am straight and sexually attracted to men, but I appreciate the beauty in my own gender. I like music but have no favourite genre. I like food but have no favourite meal. I’ve gone back and forth with career ideas since I was a child and despite having recently completed a science degree I still haven’t the faintest idea what I want to do with it.
I flit all over the place depending on many things: my mood, my hormones, the weather, the time of year, what has happened in the world be it local or global, the opinion or experience of others.
Sometimes I think I’ve found myself when I’m in the shower; the sound of running water acts like a balm to my overactive, overcrowded mind. But the moment the water stops running and I’m drying my body off, I’ve completely forgotten.
Purpose. The French know it as Raison d’etre, while the Japanese know it as Ikigai. Definitions include ‘a reason for being’, ‘a reason to get up in the morning’, and ‘a reason to enjoy life’. Perhaps my hatred of getting out of bed in the morning is not just insomnia but a lack of discernible purpose.
When I was child, I was strong-willed. I did my own thing. I was independent and lived in my own little world. I didn’t need, or seek, the approval of others.
Then, aged 11, puberty hit. Alongside the hormones, bleeding and expanding body parts came self-consciousness and self-doubt.
From then I would go along with what other people wanted to do as I thought that was how to get them to like me. I was seen as the nice one, the easy going one, but in reality I was the one who’d allow herself to be bossed around. Who I was becoming was heavily influenced by others. Of course there were occasions I would stand up and be me but what would follow was feeling like I had to justify why I was a particular way to everyone else.
To find yourself, think for yourself.
Socrates
Today, I struggle making even the simplest of decisions because I’m not sure what it is I ultimately want and I live with the feeling that I need the permission of others. As a result I have become a fence sitter; in seeing both sides so clearly my own view gets misted up and my rear end is at risk of splinters.
In the back of my mind there is a voice that niggles at me, telling me I cannot rest until I know who I am for sure. Charles de Lint says “You’ve got to find yourself first. Everything else’ll follow.” If that is the case, and I never find myself, does that mean nothing will follow and my life will remain forever as is?
I’ve felt lost for years now. But for much of that time I could equate that to being focused on my bachelor’s degree and the subsequent uncertainty of my career prospects. However, this feeling intensified further when my ex broke up with me almost a year ago. It’s not something I’m proud to admit, but a part of me has equated purpose with being in a relationship; the need for validation of my attraction and sexuality to justify who and how I am. When I was reluctantly thrust back into singledom, the part of me that I thought had a purpose was no more, and I’m back to not knowing who I am.
In all honesty, I’m not even sure if I want to know anymore.
If I found an answer would I actually be able to do anything with it? By dedicating the forseeable future to trying to find out who I am, what would I have missed out on in the meantime? And would I need to dedicate even more time to figuring out what to do with the answer? But if that search takes too long, I might be left with no time to actually do anything with the answer once I figured out that part as well.
I think I’m better off not knowing even if it is just to avoid such confusion.
Maybe my purpose in life is to have no purpose and my ‘self’ desires to forever remain hidden.
The Lilac 