Identity in Transition

Who we are is never fixed. The ongoing work of becoming in a world that wants to categorize.

In this reflection we hold the complexity of becoming. People want you to fit in a box. One box. They want a simple answer to "what are you?"

The truth is messier than that.

All of this is normal. All of this is hard.

The world likes categories because they are easy. They let people think they understand you without doing the work of actually knowing you.

But you are a person with a history, a context, a thousand small details that do not fit on a form.

When you move between places or cultures, you start to see how much identity depends on context. Who you are at your grandmother's house differs from who you are at school. Who you are with old friends differs from who you are at work.

It gets complicated when people expect consistency. When they want you to pick a side. When they say things like "you are not really" whatever you claim to be.

As if they know better than you who you are.

Identity keeps moving. You learn new things about yourself. You grow into new versions. You let go of old stories that no longer fit. That is what being alive looks like.

Sometimes the in-between feels lonely. You do not fully belong anywhere. You are too much of one thing for some people, not enough for others.

You get tired of explaining. You get tired of defending your own existence.

But there is power in the in-between. You see things that people firmly inside a single identity cannot see. You know that borders are made up, that categories are constructed, that there are more ways to be human than any box allows.

Finding your people matters. Not people who share every label with you, but people who understand what it feels like to not fit neatly.

People who do not need you to simplify yourself. People who can hold complexity.

You do not owe anyone a fixed identity. You do not have to resolve into one thing. You can be in process. You can change. You can contain contradictions.