One of life’s grand existential inquiries is launched by a simple yet fundamental question: “Who am I?” The answer to that query is nuanced and evolves seismically for some, based on one’s season of life, emotional development, and depth of understanding. Quite possibly our conceptualization of who we are ebbs and flows along a continuum of change. We grow, over time and space, into the identity we eventually settle upon.
The journey to discovering who I am begins by investigating who I was. Were my childhood needs met, or did I feel neglected, manipulated, or subjugated? Was I loved unconditionally, or were provisions placed upon my acceptance and embrace? How effectively did I cope with, adapt to, and overcome my young life’s unmet needs and desires?
Since I’m a psychotherapist, I suspect my perspective is a bit skewed. Most of my clients crave validation that they are enough, with no caveats. As an older therapist, I often assume the role of surrogate father, either unconsciously, subconsciously, or in some cases, consciously. As such, my job is to create space for, listen to, and accept people for who and what they are. Period. That unconditional positive regard, as it’s been termed, is a foreign concept to so many.
There is a void in their life because they have felt different, inadequate, maybe even deficient. They long to be seen, heard, accepted, and to matter. We all want a community in which to belong, but too often we’re just scrambling to fit in. We’re like a chameleon, changing constantly, trying to be who we think others want us to be. Why? So we won’t be rejected for being who we are.
So, in order for people to move forward in their quest to conceptualize and establish their identity, they need some help understanding the intricacies of their story and who wrote it. Quite often, our stories are not self-authored but rather dictated by other people, events, and circumstances. This ghostwritten interpretation doesn’t allow us to experience agency, freedom of expression, and blanket acceptance of self. The challenge, moving forward, is to assert control and assume authorship of the script.
Write your own story
As we edit, rewrite, and craft our first-person tale of self, it’s helpful to understand archetypes. Carl Jung first theorized and articulated his theory of collective unconscious archetypes in 1919. He identified four foundational bases from which all human experience emanates: the persona, the anima/animus, the shadow, and the self.
The persona represents the image we cultivate of ourselves and present to others. We, in essence, create a character that we play, based on who we think others want us to be. Our hope is that it will lead the world to deem us worthy of acceptance, respect, worth, and love.
The anima (female) and animus (male) are the gendered parts of us that were and still are stereotypical. The anima symbolizes female-identified traits such as empathy, intuition, and emotional dexterity. The animus signifies our logical thought and problem-solving capabilities. Jung believed that we all need both anima and animus parts to create equilibrium and wholeness of self.
The archetype that we hide from public view is the shadow, which contains the shameful, inadequate, disowned parts of us. We all have secrets—substance misuse, sexual proclivities, jealousy, lies, cheating, anger, mean-spiritedness, and other less-than-desirable aspects of our personality puzzle that we try like hell to deny. We fear that society—“normal people”—might find us unacceptable, laughable, troubled, even perverse, because of our quirks and imperfections.
Lastly, the self represents the coming together of our conscious and unconscious to create a unified whole. Maybe the realization of the self—self-actualization—is the goal to which we aspire and ultimately becomes our identity. All I know for certain is that our identity is not fixed, nor immutable throughout our lifespan. It changes and grows as we evolve. It’s entirely possible for us to completely transform ourselves, and in doing so, drastically alter the way we view ourselves and define our identity.
All this to say, despite the simplicity of the thesis inquiry (Who am I?), the answer takes time to be revealed, if it ever is. The question may be unanswerable for some, unknowable for others. And yet, searching for an answer is indeed a noble, necessary, and worthwhile pursuit. It is a full-hearted, hang-on-for-your-life expedition of self-discovery.
And to be sure, we will surely identify incongruities that are ambiguous and confusing as all get out. How can we be both kind and cruel, confident and insecure, generous and stingy? Because that is the human condition. Nobody is one thing all the time. We are a confounding conglomeration of contradictions. Woo! That’s a mouthful. And it’s the truth.
A high school football star can marry his prom queen sweetheart before finding the courage to explore his sexuality, come out as gay, and live happily ever after with the man of his dreams. Likewise, the goody-two-shoes valedictorian might one day succumb to the pressures of expectation, become addicted to heroin, and be forced to turn tricks to sustain the vicious cycle that has become her life. There are countless stories that illustrate similar ambiguity and further complicate our identity.
Sometimes happenstance can play a role in our journey through life. We can be inexplicably and foundationally changed by a person who comes into our life. Likewise, our perspective can shift after reading, hearing, or observing something profound—provided we open ourselves up to it. That often requires us to move beyond the familiar to explore the hinterlands of our psyche and imagination. Growth does not occur in a stagnant vacuum.
Who and what we are today might not be who and what we become tomorrow. The calculus is complex and evolves as do life’s circumstances and experiences. Eventually, our persona is able to relax its reputation management system after our shadow releases the shame it has been holding captive. Then we are free to liberate ourselves from what has been, accept what is, and assume authorship of our story going forward. In doing so, we eventually grow into and embrace our true identity—whatever it turns out to be.
