Updated: Sep 1
I try not to think about my identity. Who I am is hazy. I never really felt like I fit in with any group or culture. I didn’t have extended family to pass down stories or heritage, and my family history is generally lost. I moved around as a kid… a lot. For so much of my life, I felt like I was just floating, drifting to the next house, the next state (and once, the next country) to meet people I wouldn’t know in a few years. Because of that, I didn’t set down roots anywhere. I knew, deep down, that I was a fleeting moment in other people’s lives. And I was okay with that until I found myself lonelier and lonelier as the years passed.
It wasn’t until college that I started to build who I was. My roots became my friends. My home became anywhere I felt love and could create. My culture became the stories I would tell and hear from others. In a way, I’m lucky. I get to shape my identity to whatever I want it to be. And my journey of discovering who I am helped shape Blossom.
Blossom is part of my identity and the identity of those who pour their heart and soul into it every month. As young creatives, this is a stop on the way to achieving all our dreams. Seeing the project come to life with people from different backgrounds humbles me every day. The way we get to share and learn from one another is beautiful. I feel so lucky to claim Blossom as part of me, and I can’t wait to share with you our experiences and stories of identity.
Identity is something that we grapple with every day, whether we mean to or not. It’s inescapable. Personally, I would love to run away to some hermit cottage in the middle of nowhere and never be perceived by anyone again, but that’s not really an option.
My point is, it can be overwhelming when it feels like our identity is constantly on display and up for public consumption. The clothes we wear, the things we enjoy, the people we surround ourselves with ---- it all comes together to create a persona that we project to the rest of the world. Whether it’s through the lure of social media, or well-meaning professors swearing that we’ll be more hireable once we develop a “brand,” it feels kind of impossible to avoid semi-regular identity crises.
But the thing is… maybe we don’t have to do any of that? Maybe it’s okay to still be unsure of who you are. You don’t need to curate your own life or box yourself into one specific niche. Identity is nebulous. It means whatever you want it to mean. It can be confusing, but we’re allowed to be messy and contradictory. That’s all a part of who we are. And you owe it to yourself to be authentically you.