‘I don’t know if this is the homework I have to make?’
Is what I was thinking.
One that I was asked by my psychologist to do.
To put it in frame.
I needed to write down something about identity.
Something I am in search for.
If I lost it, remains the question.
I don’t think so.
That is my answer.
I never had the chance to develop it and somehow it developped it by itself.
I guess that is a natural process.
At least something I found it was doing to me.
But I am just one in the crowd.
Invisible to most.
Not aware of my existence.
And that is no wonder.
Nothing special I have been doing, that would set myself apart from that crowd.
The irony.
However we all need an identity to live.
Even if it is one that has grown on me, for reasons to stay in this world.
Let me put it like that.
But in this search of who it is I am, what it is I am supposed to be doing.
Identity is one that is important to have.
The growing of my identity is one that has been special.
A delicate process even.
Ways to find and understand.
But even better, something to do.
A way that fits me, is what I have come to know.
Or just to process that this identity would start to develop.
The most difficult one for me to find, was the one of cultural identity.
When it was said to me the first time.
I didn’t even know what it meant.
I needed to google it and find the general meaning to it.
If you are curious and want to know what it means, you can find it just there.
But apparently a large part of who we are formed by, is by our surroundings.
Our family, school, our friends.
Perhaps even the circumstances we have been through.
It could be.
That it is forming us in any way is no doubt about it.
But there is a mystery to something I have been doing.
To find that identity I was searching for.
Something I will continue.
I think this is what the homework was holding for me.
To make clear what that exactly is.
Or at least something I have been putting together for myself.
A way for me to find that part of myself, connected to my identity, is to go back to that place of my parents didn’t do.
Just as an example.
Just as an example.
In my early childhood I always questioned myself why my mother never did something with her spirituality.
Reading Tarot cards.
I can’t specific say if it is a reflection of myself.
But developing this part is a form of my identity.
Not so much the Tarot cards, but the development that is leading for me to do those kinds of readings.
The starting point for me was something that I would see or feel, related to my mother.
But when it comes to identity there is so much more.
That we don’t know of, or just not aware of.
It could be both.
It is even the things we wear, the place we stay, the products we use.
To form us from the inside.
And to continue, this can even have an effect on the partner for life we finally choose.
If cultural identity is a start for that.
Perhaps it is a bit bolt to say.
However that it has an impact on us as such.
There is no doubt about it, for sure.