by Elena Marquez
It’s taken me so long to accept that I was never meant to know who I am. I have spent the majority of my young life fielding questions about my aspirations, my dreams, my desires, my values as though the answers were somehow stashed away inside me, readily accessible like files in a drawer. The truth is, I didn’t have the answers. Pretending I did was a habit I quickly formed, a way to make people stop asking. I would nod, I would smile, I would stammer out incomplete responses that sounded, at least from the outside, as if I had all my thoughts neatly categorized.
I’ve spent my life constructing myself piece by piece.
The bits of myself that were immediately familiar seemed to land in my lap: my laughter, subjects that grabbed me and didn’t let go, people who saw me and felt familiar to me, too. The bits that were harder to acquire required much more deliberate work: the fears I wouldn’t dare utter aloud, the habits that were comfortable yet problematic, the small insistent voice of expectations that felt like they were mine but truly belonged to someone else entirely.
For a long time, I was a rough sketch waiting for the ink to finish filling in the lines. I saw everyone else move with what looked like certainty, while I fumbled around in my head, trying to discern the shape of my own thoughts. But I’ve come to understand that defining yourself is not a one-time process, nor a sudden jolt of realization. It’s an ongoing evolution comprised of gradual moments of recognition:
The choices you make when no one is watching.
The topics you return to when you’re tired.
The memories that remain with you even though they should be long forgotten.
The reactions that arise in response to compassion, defeat, or transition.
It’s a slow emergence from the attempt to please others into the honest and unflinching examination of yourself. I’ve learned that there doesn’t need to be a completed “me” ready for display. I’m permitted to grow, to shift, to become something different, to leave who I once was behind. The real “work” is to embrace the person I’m becoming and to witness, with increasing clarity, how that person is unfolding.
Art by Elena Marquez, “Letting Go“
About the Author
Elena uses her voice to explore the stories behind well-being and to inspire others to care for their bodies and communities. Whether she’s drafting essays or leading conversations at school, Elena brings curiosity, compassion, and a steady commitment to making a difference.