How often have you heard someone say, or have you thought yourself, “Well this is just who I am”.
We spend our lifetime solidifying an identity, a sense of self, and by the time we are in the later decades of our lives we feel very certain that it is who we are.
Why do we hold so tightly to that which we have created? How did we become this person? It’s a complex phenomena that most people are not interested at all in teasing apart. It’s easier to go along as we have always done. After all, this is how others know us and expect us to show up and it affords us a solid sense of “me” which our ego so desperately craves.
As children we begin to create an idea of who we through the messages we receive from our environment, especially from those who are our primary care givers – our parents/guardians. As we grow into adolescence and then adulthood, we constantly reinforce this understanding of who we are through our interactions with others.
We are perceived by others, through the lens of their life’s experiences and limited personal conditioning, in a certain light and we are constantly being fed back cues of who we are by how others acknowledge us. Over the course of a lifetime, a sense of self is formed that rarely is questioned. It’s no mystery that by the time we are in our “golden years” we might feel quite solid in our sense of ourselves. “This is who I am”.
It’s not that there is anything inherently wrong with this. It may limit our choices and experiences and at the same time it may keep us nicely wrapped in a perceived security blanket that keeps us from feeling vulnerable. At our very core, we struggle to satisfy our need for attachment (love and safety) and our need for authenticity (being real). Without attachment, especially as children, we can not survive and therefore we will choose to go along with the “other’s” idea of who we are rather than nurture our authenticity. It’s less risky. For others, however, their leaning will be more toward a need for authenticity and less for attachment. Either way, later in life, we may come to realize that our “chosen” way is limiting us and we need more of a balance.
My identity has always been wrapped up in the idea that I am a strong, independent and resilient person who can take care of myself. This self identity, learned at an early age, has informed my choices and experiences and in many ways served me well. Fast forward ahead several decades. Clarity is blossoming. I now realize, that while there absolutely was a time for my self-preserving, independent way of being, I am no longer there. Holding onto this identity, and allowing no room for the possibility of opening up to something more, is not really in my best interest.
As I age, I am becoming much more aware of the blessing it is to allow the vulnerability of my open heart to be present. I try to remain aware of how this conditioned way of seeing myself, that certainly had it’s place when needed, still dominates how I move through my life. I remind myself that I am not one solid, never-changing, self. It isn’t easy. Unraveling the layers of a costume, carefully designed over the course of a lifetime, is uncomfortable and leaves a sense of vulnerability best met with self-compassion.
Aging brings with it clarity, not because of the decades we have been on the planet, but rather because we have the time and space now to allow it to break through and we begin asking questions. For many of us, one of those questions will be, “Who am I, really?” The answer, if there is one, begins with the courage to allow ourselves to examine how we have formed our identity and why we cling to it so tightly without questioning. We have been many “selves” over our lifetimes, ever changing and evolving. There is no solid person who we call “me”.
I believe the great gift of aging is that we can come to understand the fluidity in our sense of self. We can start to let go of the notion of a solid sense of who we are and open up to a bigger mystery.
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Spending all of my adult life caring for others as a nurse has made it so difficult to ask for help from anyone that I have felt shame about doing so. My sense of self and my reality was formed young as an oldest child that had to protect younger siblings. I’ve been reinforced as an elder when the very few providers I did trust left, one literally disappeared leaving a large practice without any care. Today I choose to pay for my care because I can’t depend of finding a doctor within the system because I’m a fat senior. Physicians now chose their patients and there is the assumption that someone like me might take up too much time. If they checked my records they’d know I rarely ever had an office visit & I never took up more than 5-10 minutes. My self identity wouldn’t allow me to take more time. Now I need help & it is still shameful to me to ask. By paying out of my pocket for a private NP it helps a little but the adage “once a nurse always a nurse” can’t be easily shaken off. On the other hand that sense of self provided some strength being alone with my current struggle with a painful illness. It’s difficult to ask for help but every now and then I reach out and try. To me that is that need for attachment that overcomes the shame and education like a baby grasping a finger of the person holding them. I’ve recently reached out for that finger. I’m hoping against hope there will a hand I can hold for just a little while. In the end perhaps we do still try & we do still hope to find our deepest connection to ourselves & others despite our minds trying to keep our false self alive.
Love, Light & Laughter to all!
Heather, your experience hits at the core of what was being offered in this blog article. There is a fine balance holding those parts of our identity that were formed to protect us and the courage to allow ourselves to question when they are helping or harming us. Thank you for you feedback.
Being “not one, solid, never changing self” is a realization that does indeed come with a lot of challenge and sense of vulnerability ! Will we be exposed ? When all the selves we have been over the decades and the defense mechanisms we have developed to preserve our identity come under scrutiny by others and ourselves , we do indeed, need to engage self compassion. Often, letting our hearts respond to the “place” we find ourselves, maybe uncomfortable and foreign will help us understand how we got to here and give us the strength and wisdom to let go and open up to a “bigger mystery”. Embrace the journey because do we ever , really, arrive ?
Thank you , Heather, for allowing your wisdom and courage lead you to share these insights with me.
Thank you for your comment Sandra. Do we ever really arrive? I expect we do, everyday. We arrive as the ever-changing being that we are who deserves our acceptance and understanding just as we show up. So long as we are curious about this “me” and willing to tease apart the nuisances of our nature, we will continue to grow, emotionally and spiritually. Could there be a more interesting journey to be on in these later decades of life?