The Struggles of Unearthing My True Identity

For the longest time I’ve felt out of touch with myself, with my feminine self. I never knew who I truly was or wanted to be. Having an identity crisis at such a young age is chaotic, it’s confusing, it’s overwhelming. But, the true question was how do I become a woman who her feminine energy when all I’ve been taught is how to LOOK like a woman, how to be everything for a man but not actually being raised as a woman. The absolute confusion.

What is the meaning of Identity?

Identity is a combination of your physical and behavioural traits that define who you are.

What is a Crisis?

Crisis is a state of feeling; an internal experience of confusion and anxiety. As a result, the person in crisis may feel confused, vulnerable, anxious, afraid, angry, guilty, hopeless and helpless. Perceptions often are altered and memory may be distorted.

When you put Identity and Crisis together, what do you get? An Identity Crisis

What is an Identity Crisis?

An identity crisis is defined as a period of uncertainty or confusion in a person's life. This crisis occurs when a person's sense of identity becomes insecure and unstable. An identity crisis usually occurs when there's a change in a person's life.

Now that you have an understanding, let’s get to why you’re actually here…

For context, I am middle child and yes the only girl with an older and younger brother. So, naturally you’d think “oh wow, you must have been spoilt and really looked after” and yes, to some extent, I agree I was. I was spoilt with gifts but destroyed for having emotions, ridiculed for being sensitive and would be laughed at for being my true self. I quickly learned to hide and be who they wanted me to be. They, being my parents. I was taught to be hard, to be not have emotions and if I showed them, it meant I was weak. I was taught how to be everything and anything for everyone else especially men, but not taught how to be myself, how to be an actual woman. More than anything, I was indirectly taught how to be more like my brothers, how to be a man - forget Steve Harvey. Lesson 101 of how to be a man was taught at home.

For the many that knew me growing up, they would testify that I was a TomBoy. All I knew then - was how to embody how I truly felt and that was a girl boy. I’ve never known how to carry a handbag, just a pouch. That’s why even now, as a 30+ old woman, I still rarely, if ever carry a handbag, more side bags, cross over body bags. Maybe I’m still that little girl boy, or maybe I’ve simply grown accustomed to what I’ve learned but somehow made it a little feminine. From a Nike pouch to a cute looking YSL crossover body bag (mind you, it can also be worn as a hand bag. Duality baby).

It’s funny because the older you get, you truly see your parents for who they are. You see absolutely everything, the good, the bad, the ugly, ugly and the reason why. What I mean by “the reason why” is you are finally able to understand why they are the way they are, you’re finally able to understand and answer the “whys” you had growing up. I had to learn the importance of re-parenting myself, unlearning a lot of the things I had been taught, whilst learning how to be, to become, to flourish and thrive all while embracing my feminine side. It was hard yet such a foreign experience.

My first point contact for anything feminine was my mother. She was meant to show me how to be a woman. How to own my sensitive side. How to own and adorn my feminine energy without the need of feeling to masculine, even when time calls for it. My mother, was meant to teach me, build me and prepare me for womanhood but that didn’t exactly happen. What she in fact taught me was the importance of cooking, as a man is happy when he is fed. And I needed to learn was how to cook, clean, grocery shop, in short look after a household for the day I become a mother and a wife. However, what about my feelings? What do I do with them? Being highly sensitive… so… am I meant to stop being sensitive? Or am I to master and honour my sensitivity? Or am I to neglect that side of me, acting as if I don’t feel, because life is hard, and I too must have the hardest skin alive in order to win at life, because God forbid people know you cry, you feel, you experience - you’ll be seen as WEAK. You’ll be called weak, and in fact, even I will see you as weak.

I slowly learned toughness works in my home, the harder and more disconnected you are from your emotions - you win. You’re strong. You’re ready for the world. That’s how I was taught to see life, so naturally I buried myself within myself. I had to learn to conceal my true self. The chaos and confusion of hiding myself became my reality. There’s only so long you can as if with something, till it becomes your truth.

At school, at work, with friends - there was always an internal war, a conflict with myself that I no longer knew how to win. Because I had learned to be how others wanted me to be, especially parents, it followed me everywhere. Within friendships (college/secondary school) I am pretty sure I had friends that would feel as though I was copying them, from personality traits, characteristics to fashion. I mean, when it comes to fashion, I’ve always had my own style but, I would still somehow incorporate my friend’s style into mine, as I thought it was more accepted than mine. I was perfect at imitation, perfect at adapting myself and becoming like everyone else around me. I found it easier to be chameleon, hiding and blending with everyone than it was to truly be myself.

It was then that I realised something, I realised my mother was never going to teach me how to own my womanhood, because sadly she hadn’t. I quickly learned that everything she taught me, was everything she knew. Meaning, someone too, had also taught her the things she taught me. Can an Ant teach a fish how to swim? I don’t think so. It was then, that grace was given. It was a saddening feeling to realise that most of the things I had been taught came from parents that were operating from survival mode, moving on autopilot and not actually taking in life.

Albeit, the story goes on. My search for my identity continued… With the realisation that only I could save me and find out who I am - I got up and got to work. I started to embrace my sensitivity, intensity, my being as a whole. I search and looked for women that deeply inspired me and resonated with my being; those that owned who they are, even if it was not socially unacceptable acceptable. I search for those I wanted to be like. I read quotes, I poured into myself. Because I was taught how LOOK the parent, hair done, nails did. Everything always fresh and kept. I was taught the externals of being a woman but not the internals.

I knew then that generational cycle, trauma and everything negative had to end with me. If I ever have a daughter I want to raise her right - in her powers, I want her to love and honour herself as she is. I knew I had a lot of work to do because despite how much you can hate a person, it is even easier to become them. I knew the mother I want to be for my children - but mostly importantly, I know the woman I want my children to see and have as reference. Using astrology to dig into the depths of my soul uncovering my strengths, qualities, weaknesses, patterns - the change and acceptance begun. Coupled with human design, yeah, I’ve become a powerful sensitive lion to be reckoned with.

I had to save me for me, because I deserve to feel powerful in my body. I deserve to see my sensitive side as my strength, I deserve to love me for who I am, as I am whilst still working on myself. I had to learn that if I was going to break the cycle for me and mine, the work needed to be done. I needed to destroy and take down almost every parts of me that had grown accustomed to be a chameleon and own who I was. The journey of self discovery is such a powerful, humbling yet heart wrenching experience. You literally see yourself fall apart to come back together again.

Going through an identity crisis is never easy especially when it all starts from your home - where you are meant to feel and be your truest version. It can be easy to blame our parents for not showing us the way, but rather, they have us fighting for our lives and sanity whilst trying to heal from a childhood we certainly didn’t ask for. I get it. All they had to do is what we did, which was grow and evolve in order to give our children a different experience. However, the blessing is we get to reparent ourselves, and even in some cases reparent our own parents. We get to create the family of our dreams whilst raising our little babies in the best possible way FOR THEM. To know better is to be better. Our parents had a choice and made theirs, what will yours be?