Life Three Years In...
I am twenty-five years old and my life began three years ago.
It all started when I decided to move with my mother to a new state with nothing more than what we could fit into my old childhood van. I had decided to press the reset button on our lives since most of it had been defined by the hold of my narcissistic father (and, for my mother, her then-husband of over twenty years). Neither one of us was afforded the psychological freedom to truly be ourselves–whatever that would come to mean in due time. And, so, my mother and I made an unspoken pact that we would set out, as individuals, and do all the things we could not do before. We were going to live.
And live–we have.
I got a good-paying job, founded a relationship with a beautiful woman, traveled, and made friends from all walks of life. The life that I had come to live was more than what I could have even imagined a mere three years ago. Over 1096 days, I went from being isolated in my room, reading to escape the crippling depression of deferred actualization to living a fulfilling life surrounded by people who loved me. The caveat, however, of such an intense change in my outer world is that it would require just as much transformation to my inner world. Three years in, the memory of who I was faded and I now had to begin the journey of rebuilding my self-concept.
When I was younger, I thought I knew who I was as both an individual and a person in society. I was convinced of my understanding of the world and my place in it. I was sure in my assessment of human behavior and navigating relationships. I believed, wholeheartedly, that my philosophy of managing the trials of life was fool-proof, despite never having faced any diverse set of challenges. Close to everything came undone. My thoughts and ideas that existed in a vacuum were challenged by the elements of real life. I worked a job that took advantage of my good nature and ran me to the point of burnout. I came in contact with many people who did not mean me well and spoke ill of me behind my back. And insecurities cropped up in my relationship that I never knew I had. As I was building experiences in the world around me, my inner world began to unravel.
Life three years in, I am embarking on a path of rediscovery. I have had to wipe clean on almost everything I thought I knew about myself and now I must redefine my self-concept to be in alignment with the new life I have brought in. The requirement has been the elevation of my introspection and the humility to ask questions of myself that I once thought were obvious. (This has been especially true as it relates to discovering the possibility of being neurodivergent.) What interests and hobbies do I want to return to with new eyes and what unknown has piqued my curiosity? How would I define my personality and temperament? What are my fears and insecurities and how do those harm those closest to me? There are so many questions that sometimes I can get overwhelmed by the realization of how much I do not know about myself. But here is the truth:
No one will ever know everything about themselves. We are all forever lifting veils of self-revelation.
Inside-out or outside-in, a decision held steadfast with action can alter your life for the better. All that is required is the courage to take the first step and embrace life as it comes to you. If this journey has taught me anything thus far is to not hold too tight to who you believe yourself to be. You can never know how shortsighted and myopic your self-concept is until you accept the possibility of something more or different. With an open heart and mind, more will be revealed about you, context will be added or altered, and many parts of who you are will necessarily expire to accommodate the next version of you. It can be uncomfortable and frightening at times to face the unknown, but if you continue to persevere through the changes, you will have a more robust understanding of yourself and the world. You will have the same beauty as the changing of the seasons.
There is no way to know what my life will look like five or ten years in, but I do know that I will allow myself to change in all the necessary ways to become more of who I am. I accept all future versions of me. I accept the amnesia of change and I accept the remembering too. The wonderful truth about a leap of faith and an embrace of the unknown is that once you realize that the world does not end but gets better after some time, every subsequent change and unknown is that much more bearable–and even enjoyable, depending. When you understand the good that will come to your life at the price of the old you, it is well worth the expense.
The Ibis Society