I used to carry a fake ID in my wallet.
In high school, I guess I was the guy in my friend group who felt compelled to take risks. Although I was mostly cosplaying courage, something about it made me feel like at least I had a role to play. That gave me something to hide behind and there was a bit of safety in that.
One infamous New Year's Eve, that ID helped me throw an oversized party at my mom's house while she was away. Let's just say she thought I was staying at a friend's house, and therefore my scheme involved a locksmith and a well-coordinated carpool to the town park-and-ride to prevent a conspicuous line of cars from piling up out front.
My mom never found out. At least, not until years later when I came clean.
I wish I'd known how to be myself, fully, back then... but I didn't. More than just buying booze before my peers, that fake ID was a way to invent a new me for a bit. Even after I stopped carrying that fake ID in my wallet, I kept tinkering with how much of myself to reveal...
Mental health advocate.
Outdoor leader guy.
Mountain athlete.
Snowboarder.
Bartender.
Marketer.
Writer.
Sober.
Queer.
Storyteller.
I did that for longer than I really care to admit.
Recently, I've been thinking a lot about my ability to change, and I've realized that my biggest struggle has really been with knowing when, rather than how. That's sort of an uncomfortable realization because it highlights how little I used to trust myself. Thankfully, I've had a lot of opportunities to try, fail, and try again.
What I've landed on is this: I don't actually need a label.
I'm someone who can always figure it out. And I'm ok with not knowing in the space in between.
How important is identity to you? Why?
onward.
For more on this daily column and The MAP Year Project, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.