Identity
Let’s imagine I’m meeting someone for the first time. Let’s call them Kit. Kit might find it unnerving if I asked them point-blank, “So…who are you?” What does that even mean? Can Kit communicate their essence to me? It might be more natural to say something indirect and welcoming like, “Would you mind telling me a little about yourself?” If Kit responded with a list of qualities like an online dating profile—adventurous, cat-lover, accountant, etc.—I wouldn’t feel that I was really getting to know them any better, not really. I’d learn more about them if their life facts came packaged in stories. And preferably, Kit’s responses won’t be long, meandering stories where I can’t figure out the point, but relatively short stories that tell me something about the kind of person they are. In addition to their factual history—achievements, relationships, or significant life events—I want to learn about their values, goals, and aspirations, that is, if I’m really going to get to know them. An identity is not something within a person that has been determined by their past; it is the story that a person tells about themself in order to make sense of their past experiences in light of their values. These values set the course for our future lives, and that is why forming meaningful relationships often has more to do with where you both want to go in life than where you’re coming from. If Kit and I each share our stories in good faith, we will most likely develop a very meaningful friendship.
“. . . we are who we are in some mysterious, ineffable way, that makes it possible to commune with ourselves, a higher power, or others in a way that transcends socially constructed narratives.”
Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash
As the scenario above was intended to illustrate, it can be useful to navigate matters of identity in terms of narrative. Don’t get me wrong, this is not to deny that there is some kind of essence within us. I personally believe we are who we are in some mysterious, ineffable way, that makes it possible to commune with ourselves, a higher power, or others in a way that transcends socially constructed narratives. I’m simply acknowledging the reality that we’ll need to put that self narrative on again when we face the social world, and that it has a creative component, like choosing what clothes to put on when you get out of bed in the morning. Like clothing, a self narrative does not define you; it is an opportunity for expression—sometimes functional and sometimes playful depending on the occasion. Like clothing, a self narrative can fit well or distort the way we appear, it is typically subject to cultural conventions through social messaging and role models, and it might prompt compliments from some and criticism from others. Like clothing, a self narrative can be used to fade into the background or to stand out. Following are some pointers for constructing a self narrative that feels comfortable and helps you find your place in the world.
Tell yourself and others the truth: own your imperfections. You may be tempted to hide your imperfections in order to feel safe, out of fear that if others see who you really are they will reject you. But the opposite is actually true: people depend on each other and form important bonds because of their imperfections, their lack of self-sufficiency. Have you ever thought someone you knew was perfect? I would venture a guess that you did not know how to relate to them. If you cultivate an image of perfection with others, it will make them unsure how to connect to you. Moreover, Pretending to be “perfect” and to depend on no one can be extremely painful and lead to psychological turmoil. As Brené Brown has written, “If you trade in your authenticity for safety, you may experience the following: anxiety, depression, eating disorders, addiction, rage, blame, resentment, and inexplicable grief” (p. 53). When you tell an “authentic” self-narrative to yourself and others, it becomes possible for you to experience a real sense of belonging. If you do not accept your own imperfections, you will not feel like you belong in your own mind and skin. If others accept you without knowing your true story, you may feel like a fraud. If you tell your true story and are accepted by yourself and others, you will experience a sense of belonging, which is an extremely powerful weapon against mental illness such Brown describes. When a self narrative is told with self awareness, authenticity, and honesty, it is a story of belonging.
Know that you are not the problem. Does your current self narrative suggest that the problems in your life are a product of who you are? Or that the problems you face are so serious and abundant that they are in control of your life? Such a self narrative may doom you to experiencing the same obstacles over and over again. As my professor for Adlerian Psychology used to say, “you get what you expect, not what you want.” By the time we’re about 7 years old, we already have deeply ingrained assumptions about ourselves, the world, and others that will serve as a blueprint for our future lifestyle. This blueprint is not very coherent, unfortunately, and can lead to lots of problems if it is not later revised. According to Dan McAdams (2013), the ability to be an author of yourself is a natural stage in human development following the stage in which we’ve recognized our agency in the world. The process of integrating various important incidents and experiences into a coherent life narrative usually begins in the late teens and early twenties. At any point in your adult life, it is within your power to redirect your life course and shape a new lifestyle by changing your self narrative. Part of owning your imperfections means accepting the fact that you will make mistakes and have problems, but these problems don’t own you or control your life. By acknowledging your mistakes and problems, you actually create the possibility for doing something about them. Paradoxically, if you ignore/hide your mistakes and problems, it is unlikely you will ever grow beyond them. By renarrating your story, you can reframe your experiences to emphasize how you got through hard times and have grown from them. Remember to be patient with yourself. If you set a new destination and start a new path, it still takes a lot of time and effort to make the journey. You’ll see the scenery change little by little and, as I mention on the home page, just knowing that you are going somewhere beautiful can be a source of joy along the way.
Practice integrating confusing or disturbing experiences, not just pleasant ones. A story about your past that includes hardship and trauma can feel chaotic, so it may be appealing to focus only on the positive, because that’s a simpler story to tell—everything moving in one rosy direction. On the other hand, a story that is too simple most likely doesn’t tell the full truth about you. A balanced self narrative is complex enough to include all the important life events and relationships (both negative and positive) you’ve had and coherent (well-integrated) enough to suggest how all these good and bad things figure into your current life trajectory. People with self narratives that are both complex and coherent tend to be much happier than people with only one or the other (Bauer et al., 2008). Consider Viktor Frankl’s story.
Expose yourself to the life stories of others. We don’t create our stories from whole cloth; we borrow from the stories we encounter around us: parents, friends, mentors, books, TV shows, movies, etc. If you are going to be more intentional about the way you tell your own story, also be intentional about finding helpful exemplary narratives. For example, you could read the biographies of people you admire or read fiction novels featuring rich character development. Novels by Fyodor Dostoyevsky and Marilynne Robinson are personal favorites of mine.
“Thicken” your preferred story. Narrative Therapy has a lot to say about deconstructing oppressive, problem-saturated stories and renarrating our lives with preferred stories, which empower us to lead more meaningful lives. Even though a preferred story will more accurately describe your experiences, it is “thin,” at first, because it takes time to permeate into the rest of your life, your environment, and your relationships. You must take an active role in thickening your relationship with your preferred story while thinning out your relationship with oppressive ones. You need to tell (no, live!) this story often to thicken it so that it can replace and keep at bay the oppressive stories that our culture, media, and some people in your life may be pushing on you. Take time to meditate on the values that underlie your preferred story, do activities that reinforce your preferred story, and cultivate relationships that nourish this preferred identity.
References/Recommendations
Bauer, J. J., McAdams, D. P., & Pals, J. L. (2008). Narrative identity and eudaimonic well-being. Journal of Happiness Studies, 9(1), 81–104.
Brown, C. B. (2010). The gifts of imperfection: Let go of who you think you’re supposed to be and embrace who you are. Hazelden.
McAdams, D. P. (2013). The psychological self as actor, agent, and author. Perspectives on Psychological Science, 8(3), 272–295.
White, M., & Epston, D. (1990). Narrative means to therapeutic ends. Norton.
