“Human life is one with the identity it creates.” Something about this last line in a poem one of my students shared today has stuck with me. Not just because it carries with it a certain level of provocative ambiguity that is common within adolescent expression--I’ve written similar lines myself throughout the years hoping to evoke a strong emotional response and make a statement--but because the implied meaning beneath it seems both empowering and terrifying. There is hope in the suggestion that we have the power to shape the course of life through the identities we shed and recreate. Sometimes this can become obscured by the dark clouds of disorders, diseases, addictions and traumas, seeming to cripple an individual’s ability to differentiate the whole self from the sum of these parts. Change is often more terrifying than remaining in the deeply entrenched yet comfortable dysfunctions we create for ourselves. So how to navigate this complex relationship between the shifting identities created by the course of life? I’ve spent a lot of time exploring the concept of externalizing with my clients, emphasizing the idea that they are unique individuals entirely separate from those disorders, diseases, addictions and traumas that plague them and their families. This is a difficult task, mainly because the pervasive social message about mental health issues often seems overwhelmingly negative and stigmatizing. Children introduce themselves by their diagnoses. Parents come in pleading, demanding and cajoling me to “fix” their child. Sometimes there is a mixture of shock, confusion and relief when I suggest there is another way to address these things. This is not to say that I am not guilty of internalizing my problems either, especially as I transition towards major life tasks of establishing career, relationship and a new home space. Lately it has felt like I am on the brink of an identity crisis at times; I get disheartened with my seeming lack of progress towards certain goals and feel disappointed when I fail to attain the high expectations I set for myself. These are just a few recent instances that have challenged my attitude and identity to the point where the two feel incongruent with how I want to live my life. But, (as I often remind my clients), I can choose differently. It makes sense that our outward experiences would mirror our inner perceptions of identity--but this does not mean that either of those concepts must (or should) remain the same forever! As Anaïs Nin once wrote, “Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.” To me, a shrunken life is full of worry, regret and scarcity; there is never enough time, money, or other resources to go around. This type of life may offer a false sense of safety, but in actuality it is pinched, hungry and small. Living small like that will ultimately make us lose sight of our identities and become invisible. On the other hand, expansion equals growth—and growth can be uncomfortable. But past that discomfort is an expanded life full of presence, honesty and generosity. Living large means admitting fault and taking personal risks to be better, asking for what we want, changing what we can and leaning into the discomfort and vulnerabilities that can accompany the human condition. All of life, as in identity formation, is a process; the courage comes in the choices we make each day that determine the type of life we want and the person we want to be living it.
