by Lucia Navarro
Back in high school, during my junior year, it started. I couldn’t tell you exactly when. Maybe it was between classes, in the hallway when everyone seemed to have it figured out. Or it could’ve been in a group project when my friends acted like they knew exactly what they were doing. Maybe even earlier, a long time ago, when I’d laugh at jokes I didn’t find funny or nod in agreement to opinions that I didn’t really believe in.
I only knew that one day, I looked in the mirror and the person staring back was no longer completely familiar.
Not like you suddenly had a huge identity crisis. Trust me, it won’t be that dramatic.
More like you were wearing someone else’s hoodie, it fit pretty well, but it was still their hoodie.
Every day you’d glide through school on autopilot: saying the right things, nodding at the appropriate times, and pretending like you weren’t carefully editing everything that you said. You’d ask yourself, “is everyone else doing the same thing or have they cracked the code I can’t seem to figure out?”
The funny part was that it took such a small thing to crack.
I was in the cafeteria of all places, and when somebody asked me what kind of music I listened to, my automatic answer – whichever song was playing everywhere else – rose in my throat. Except this time it felt a little heavy and it just didn’t feel like me.
So, I shrugged and said, “I’m still figuring it out.”
No one blinked an eye. No one laughed or probed further and the conversation moved on. However, I was stuck.
On the way home later, my backpack dragging me down with it, I felt something shift. Nothing miraculous or world-changing, just something like a shoelace that had been tied a little too tight loosening itself up a little.
Maybe it wasn’t supposed to have an identity all figured out just yet?
Maybe your identity was meant to be discovered through bits and pieces over time, but moment by moment. In the process, I was inching closer to being the me that I was meant to be.
Painting by Jiří Petr, “Woman With Cat“
About the Author
Lucia believes stories live in cultures, languages, and the versions of ourselves we’re still learning to discover.