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When the Sense of Self Becomes a Trap
Planting a flag about who we are doesn’t help anyone see us better. And it may only serve to constrain us.
Our identities form along the road to adulthood. For some people, their identities fall into place organically. Others struggle to figure them out. And sometimes the definition we adopt is not a true reflection of who we are at all but rather a reaction to our upbringing.
Growing up in a chaotic household, where my parents often fought and sought out my advice on how to deal with my rebellious sibling, I became precociously adult. I prided myself on my ability to be levelheaded, keep my emotions in check and behave maturely and responsibly. I believed it was my role to be strong, to buck up, to bury my own vulnerabilities so that my family would remain intact.
My high school friends also came to me for counsel on dealing with friends, families and affairs of the heart. I felt like Dear Abby, as I doled out advice by the bushel.
When I went away to college, I couldn’t relate to the antics of my theater-major roommate. She wouldn’t pull her weight with keeping the room neat and clean. She was out until all hours, cavorting with her boyfriend and assorted other young men. She was the yin to my yang, all footloose and fancy free. And I resented her. She once said she was going to buy me a T-shirt with…
