Identity & Self-Definition

“Who am I?” is one of the most fundamental questions we ever grapple with. Joining a group (especially one with a strong ideology) can provide a very clear answer to that. A recruit goes from being a drifting individual to “I am a warrior of X,” “I am a child of this Church,” “I am a proud Throbber fan of Boy Throb.” The group identity often overwrites or simplifies the personal identity. Notably, extremists often adopt new names, uniforms, even language… All symbols of their new self. This identity fusion not only answers “who am I” but often comes with a sense of worth: “I am valuable because I am one of the chosen (or one of the righteous, or one of the freedom fighters).” For someone who felt insignificant or lost before, that could be deeply validating. For me, identity has always been a do-it-yourself project. Rather than accept a premade identity, I’ve layered together my own from scratch: I am a writer, an independent thinker, an aro-ace quirky soul, a nerdy explorer of weird ideas, and so on. I won’t lie; sometimes DIY identity is exhausting. There’s no single flag I can wave that everyone else understands. Even the labels I do claim (like asexual) are misunderstood by most people, so they don’t automatically grant me acceptance or pride in broader society. But the flip side is, my identity is fully mine. It’s like a patchwork jacket I’ve sewn over the years, with each patch an experience or value I chose to incorporate. I guard it jealously. If someone tries to stick a foreign patch on it, I’ll peel it right off. I suspect this is why I react so strongly to things like forced activities or relationship labels, it feels like someone trying to write on my jacket without permission. On a more positive note, the identity I’ve built for myself has become a fortress I can retreat to. I have a strong sense of internal identity (some might call it a strong individual self-concept). It allows me to be okay being different. I don’t mind being the only one in a room not drinking or not playing a party game, because being “the abstainer” is actually part of who I am. I’ve owned it. You could say I’ve radicalized around my own autonomy. My identity is fused not with a group, but with the very idea of staying an independent self. In both cases (the extremist and me), identity brings comfort and direction. It’s just that one person finds identity by melding with others, and the other finds it by sharpening their uniqueness. Both are responding to that human need to say “This is me” and feel at peace with it.