Identity Cry-sees

My common refrain: Any change, even if positive, wanted, and welcome, brings with it an element of identity crisis. Even small, simple things can do this. Think about the readjustment necessary to get used to a rearranged desk or a new haircut or even a different brand of toothpaste.

The possible anxiety increases when it is linked to personal changes. I lost a ton of weight (over 80 pounds). I am no longer “the fat girl”. So now where do I fit in my social sphere? Even thought I didn’t like it, I knew who I was when I was the fatty. It took time, but I pretty much knew how I fit in now without my armor of blubber.

I worked through and grew out of many of my numerous anxieties and other neuroses. So I’m no longer the helpless victim. But stepping into this new identity of capable healthy adult still feels quite a bit new and strange.

I’m no longer the stoner. No longer the wannabe goth. I’m no longer a smoker, no longer the angry one. I’m no longer a late-night partier; no longer the girl who sleeps all day. I’m no longer shy or conversely, sexually inappropriate. I’m no longer manipulative or childish.

So what am I then? Who am I? Well isn’t that just the corny adolescent question of the ages. Bleah!

If we’re defining ourselves through what we do, I don’t even have a clear answer on that anymore. Since I was two months old, my identity has been laced up tight as “actor”. A little early to box yourself in to a lifelong role. Up until recently I thought it would always be that way. There just weren’t any other viable alternatives. It wasn’t a question. Wasn’t a possibility.

But now—now I’m getting certified to be a holistic health counselor. I’m gently nudging into the spiritual realm. I’m enveloping myself in a culture of health. It is strange, frightening, and glorious.

The other day, I was walking down the street with my iPod on; out in the world, but using the sound barrier to focus inward. I thought about the new amazing turn my life is taking. I thought about the new abundance of fantastic things going on. I thought about how beautifully different my life is now when compared to a year ago, even six months ago. Even three. I felt my own energy coursing through me. I felt so open and aware and blessed. The words: “I am a Supernova” became lodged in my brain. And tears started springing from my eyes. Tears of joy, relief, and utter amazement. For a few moments, I was able to just “be” with this incredible feeling. Then, of course, it scared the hell out of me (just a leetle) and I had to tamp down the emotions just a tad. But they were real and true and I’m glad I had that experience.

I’m not clear on who I’m going to be. But I have a pretty good idea of where I am. And for once I have faith in my future. That’s a concept that has, in the past, eluded me. This is the best identity crisis yet.

Connexions

My relationships are in flux at the moment. Some connections are new and tenuous. As lovely as they are, this infant time when I don’t quite have my footing is a bit uncomfortable. I relish bringing new people into my world, but I always have growing pains.

Some connections are old but new again. They are people who have re-entered my life in a new way. Or perhaps I’m just in a different shape to receive them. Either way they are welcome surprises.

And sadly, some connections are old and just not working any more. The shared energy served me for a time, but simply no longer does. Spending time with these people leaves me feeling hungry. A physical hunger; a manifestation of the lack I am feeling when I am with them. These people are not intentionally toxic—I would hope—they just aren’t what I need anymore.

And I do need people.

A new facet of my life is a turning inward. I am looking inside myself for my own fulfillment. Nothing can feed me, mother me, love me, or meet me the way I can. We are born alone, every relationship ends, and we die alone. This is not necessarily a depressing thought. It does mean we can’t rely on the external. But intellectually at least we all know that! The beauty is, though, that we CAN rely on the internal. The self-love and self-care can be accessed within ourselves. This is the work I am doing. This is the self-reliance I aim to achieve.

However, I still need people.

As do we all. If you are human, you need other humans. This isn’t a bad thing. It is not a childish thing or a needy thing or a misguided thing. It’s a good thing. Beautiful, amazing, wonderful events transpire when people join together.

So I need human interaction. Healthy, positive connections. I’m ridding myself of the vampires, I’m learning to let go of my anxieties surrounding new interactions, and I’m cherishing the friends that have stuck around and who continue to surprise me.