Who Am I?

"I feel like I'm falling apart." Miss Independent (a previously-mentioned friend of mine) earned her name by being a solid individual, so experiencing a serious bout of self- uncertainty was beyond unnerving. "Everything I once wanted, everything I thought was important... I don't care about any of it anymore," she said through an onset of tears.

But what was more upsetting was the realization that embracing anything radically new or different inevitably meant leaving some things behind... including some people. Including some of the more important people.

Being 20-something means a crash-course with reality. All the dreams and aspirations of our youth now have to intersect the effort and resources it requires to bring it to fruition. That idea you held onto of your identity is suddenly put on stage under a blinding light and forced to prove itself. It is forced to be more than a mere idea.

When we make a commitment to our true self--to the person we wish to become--we have to break up with old things: old dreams, old notions, old habits, old friends, and old lovers. A disparate existence chafes against the soul, as communal as we are, so a sense of Self, Identity, and Unity is imperative. Your relationship with YOU is one truly monogamous relationship we all must embrace for the sake of joy.

As Miss Independent struggled to climb a 5.10c at our gym through doubt and frustration, she slowly began the essential purging process of her individual dwelling.

"¹¹ When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. ¹² For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known." (Corinthians 13). That part of the famous love passage was always lost on me. I hoped one day I would understand better what it meant. I think now I just might.

In our 20-somethings we are finally faced with the task of "putting away childish things," and of seeing "in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face." We finally have to create our Self, and see our Self. It doesn't always feel good, but love--even (or especially) self-love--is much more than a feeling. And this universal struggle is as unique as the individuals experiencing it. Saying goodbye to her ex and finally accepting him as a childish thing is a task far more difficult for Miss Independent than I can really understand. But, perhaps, it will actually mean saying "hello" to much more.

For me, your author, I have to say goodbye too. Nervousness impedes my process of accepting responsibilities beyond serving liquor, answering phones, avoiding writing, flirting, shallow relationships, and doubt. But the time has come to dispel doubt, to reject nerves and (dare I say it) fear. Miss Independent has realized an overwhelming sense of isolation. And, as extroverted as she is, there is perhaps nothing more upsetting. She feels alone, separated by her differences and by those desires and ambitions that no longer fit the norm. The irony, and perhaps greatest comfort, is that she is not actually alone at all. I am right there with her.

And if you're twenty or thirty-something, chances are you are with her too.

Who am I?

While the answer for all of will certainly be different, the question is still the same.