Identity

Identity: 

The word alone makes you halt to find yourself in between the trapped generation. Wait, how would you conclude your identity- the citizen of your nation, with roles in the relationship and dimension of what you have achieved but is not it a satisfaction in dimensions that you are providing to your lifelong journey. Your identity is not what one dictates or what one validates. Your identity comes from you. The amalgamations of your experiences to your problem, your behaviors to the circumstances you were forced into. Not the cultivation of conflicts and roles, expectation encompassed in the name of- that is what everyone else does. The judgment of your opinions, your moral attitude, and your faith can never be counted as your identity. Regarding your choices, limiting them to their criticism is like committing murder of your own soul, bit by bit. No one may set limits and criticize you because your sexuality differs from theirs, your way of expressing your emotions and the dynamics of your change of reaction to your problem can be loud or too silent, there is no such thing called average or- oh normal people don’t react this way. Excuse me, I am not obligated to work in a certain mechanism of expectation you set. The broad contrast of who you want to be and who you are, what you want to what you have at present makes a wide range of conflicts in your life, and they become catalysts to your changing personality.

Identity isn’t a limit to playing the role of daughter, wife, mother, or a perfect asset to the office. The dimensions between discovering and developing the purpose of life and managing your objective should be your priority, to retain your individuality in between the crowd. That forceful pull in the fast-forward remote control of the perfect race subtly confined into aesthetics exhausting you. Yet, you are too focused to rank in that perfect role of every commitment and every relationship left buried as the remnant of warfare.

I agree you can’t be a wide-open spectrum showing the colors of your existence like a glass prism bringing forth your insecurities and vulnerability. The guidance you work on secretly to achieve a perfect relationship. But the balance between dissenting and honest virtue reads your novel that you cultivated in your main character’s energy, the one who has the strongest nest in the strongest branch. Sir Erikson has divided life into eight stages, each one of them having their own level of conflict. Like in the age of adolescence, the major conflict our mind goes through is “identity versus role confusion.”

The grappling age between experimentation to experience to set the feet in perfect morals of society expert belief that had been already kept as criteria to measure, their career path and choices to turn into rebellious of those norms emerge out your personality with your own sheets rubbed with the ink of your struggles and conflicts forced into your journey. The roles get added from perfect students to an asset for the company, to perfect wives and perfect parents. And the never-ending journey of being a puppet in the hands of those powerful wicked evil unsuccessful taunts, who failed to stand brave for their dreams, so hold on to your version with little strength, hope, and determination to do.

© Jyotika~@Maatijyo