Philosophers have been asking “Who am I?” for centuries.
Plato said we’re souls temporarily trapped in bodies. Descartes believed we are because we think. Others define us by our relationships, our roles, our impact. Queer theory offers identity as fluid, ever-changing, something we perform rather than possess.
For me, identity has always felt elusive.
I’ve worn many identities over my almost thirty years: The quiet kid. The tomboy. Traveler. Creator. Hockey player. Gay…for a while. Queer…feels better.
Ten years ago, I came out as gay. It lifted a weight off my shoulders, but there was still a part of me hiding—a part most people won’t understand but that has plagued me since I was a little kid. Gay never felt quite right.
Lesbian made me cringe. Ma’am, woman, miss, even a mistaken sir—these all made my body shudder. I am queer and I will never neatly fit in a box.
For seven of those years, my identity became defined by travel. Nomad, wanderer—these were labels I wore with pride. Travel was wonder, freedom, transformation. But it no longer serves me the way it used to.
As a kid I was branded creative—an identity I always needed to live up to. But what happens when the creative kid loses their way? When creativity becomes work and you feel like a fraud? I lost my creative drive somewhere between design school and my career. A creative director who no longer felt creative.
Eventually I said enough. To the labels that didn’t fit. To the identities that had run their course. To performing for boxes that were never meant to hold me.
Now I’m in the midst of an identity shift. Shedding and grieving old versions of myself, reconnecting with that creative kid I once was. I don’t have all the answers yet, but I’m excited to play and explore this next chapter.
Which version of you is asking to speak today? If you were the one in the chair, what identity would ring true for you today?
I’m all of this and more.
