Identity

Labels. Labels. Labels.

Everybody has them. Everybody fits at least 4 of them without trying. By merely existing.
Labels. You can't really seem to get away from them and even when you try not to label other people, experience gets in the way. You become...knowing and all knowing about the characteristics of that person who you really don't want to label because...you hate labels.

Identity is a label.
We are all something. A daughter, a son, a brother, a sister, a child, an adult, a writer, an artist, an alcoholic, a flake...whatever. We all have something that makes us real, memorable or unique, and that "thing" is a label.

When I think about identity, I try to think about the up side and the down side of it.
Like...trying to live spiritually and reliant on feelings, is perceived as something.
Being Black is perceived as something.
Being a woman, is perceived as something.
Being honest or straight-forward is perceived as something.
Over-compensating and imposing is perceived as a lack of something. So identifying with myself is a matter of perception. Who I share that self-perceived perspective with, would be someone, who according to their own understanding of my word, would "know" me.

Identity follows us everywhere.
Be it, trans-continental or local, we don't really have the option of disappearing.

Identity... can be a brilliant thing. Claiming ideas/ideals about who we really are to feed our egos. I reckon the good kind. It allows us the chance to be something we believe to be true in word and form, trying to evolve in the framework of cultural/class/racial/social identity is a distinct human experience. Because from adolescence, we start to really shape our bodies with a personality and panache. And effectively start adding on the baggage based solely on whether or not it is acceptable to others.

These days I would rather strip myself of another label in order to get another layer of humanity past the pestilence called baggage, but I tend to think that loving myself helps a lot. Breaking down one concern after another, claiming an identity does not cover me or protect me, from shame, embarrassment, or misunderstandings. It most certainly allows other people the freedom to adopt pre-suppositions about me and my circumstances. And one would say, I shouldn't care...This is life.

But is it really?