Finding My Identity in a Global Pandemic
It took a global crisis for me to do some self reflection
I grew up in a small town where your high school said more about you than you ever could — you either went to the elitist-jock school or you went to the hipster-theater school a few miles down. Your identity was decided before you even turned 14. It didn’t matter if you wanted to pursue music or be an art kid if you went to that sporty school, the sticker on your parents’ car bumper spoke for you.
This drove me to eventually attend college a short 2,500 miles away. It was finally my chance to start my own identity, rewrite my story, or whatever other cliché you’d like to insert here.
To my surprise, I let it happen all over again. This time it was no one’s fault but mine. My identity quickly became my college, my major, and my extracurriculars. I pretty good at it too, even going so far to call it personal branding. I was able to weave all of my experiences into a nicely worded summary showing potential employers that I was well rounded, yet committed to my passions. The word passion is used loosely here, maybe I’m referring to the passions I believed people wanted me to have. (It is obvious to me only now that no one ever wanted me to have any specific passion, but to instead simply have true passions.) Fast forward four years, I graduated and got a good job at my dream company and you guessed it — my identity switched yet again. When people asked how I was doing, my answer usually answered how my job was doing instead.
It is a little embarrassing to admit that at 22 years old, it took a global pandemic for me to finally realize the identity I was so proud of was never mine at all. I never took the time to develop what made me me. While the proper nouns (university, company of employment, hometown, etc.) have shaped me, they do not define me. The COVID-19 pandemic forced me to take the time to truly look at what I want my identity to be, both perceived and realized.
Now that I am no longer spending my free time commuting back and forth to work, going out to bars, and working out at overpriced gyms, I have the time to reflect on what actually makes me happy and what truly makes me unique. I’ve found myself reprioritizing my routine. I realized I never really wanted to spend $20 on a cocktail at an overcrowded Los Angeles bar, but I craved the interpersonal conversations that sometimes accompanied. I realized I wasn’t working out to look better, but to release stress and manage anxiety. I found myself returning to hobbies I did as a child — hobbies that make me extremely happy, despite not partaking in them for years, such as playing the piano and creating art (painting, graphic design, etc.). I suddenly found time to reevaluate relationships in which I’d invested so much of myself. I’ve made time to reconnect with people I haven’t talked to in years — as if virtual communication was only invented a few months ago. It feels like wasted time that so many relationships were interrupted merely because of physical distance. While I admittedly miss some physical interaction and connection, I feel closer to some people now than I ever have.
It is definitely easy to get caught up in the seemingly nonstop negative and scary news, but I’ve realized how grateful I am for this unplanned extra time. There may never be another stretch of time like this in my life to truly sit and reflect, unbothered by the routine of going to work and keeping up appearances. I can only hope to continue this self-reflection and commit to prioritizing finding fulfillment outside of my work.
