In Need for Identity

There was absolutely nothing that could set me apart from the sea of designer purses, overly expensive shoes, and cherry flavored lip glosses. In high school, it seems if you weren’t marginalized into a group or follow the status quo you were seen as the misfit. One day, I experienced an epiphany in the back of my Government class, I wasn’t content with the illusion of the perfect teen. I had acceptable grades, I was well liked by most of my student body; however, I couldn’t come to the terms that I neglected what really mattered to me. At home my family would describe me with words such as: “eclectic, unique and remarkable.”, but at school I conformed into a person with a lackluster personality. I reckon that college is a place where each student is not the same and has the ability to be their true selves without being judged. This being, another reason why I respect your institution on the importance of accepting different cultures and

I never thought I would be labeled an outsider, a misfit even. As I trudged my way through the halls of my small town high school, I would endure the gazing pairs of eyes, that belonged to my peers, followed by whispering and often times some laughter. I always used zone out during those repetitive speeches and commercials about the effects of gossiping and rumors; never did I imagine that one day I would be on the receiving end of of the everyday potshot. Growing up I was always the center of attention, the one everyone yearned to be friends with, never was I the antisocial child in the corner with nowhere to turn… not until high school. They say high school changes you. They say high school accounts for some of the greatest years of

Like any other school there were the “cool” kids and the “not-so-cool” kids and like most people I longed for the feeling of fitting in. I tried so hard to buy the right clothes and to talk the right way. I became so caught up in my own life that I did not take a second to stop and think of someone other than myself. Last year, in eight grade, I had the chance to be apart of the “it” group, but during that time I lost myself. Peer pressure had pushed me into a corner where I was unable to think for myself and as a result I lost my ability to establish my character.

Personal identity is essential in the human experience. Identity is complex and can be broken down into two main groups: introspective identity, and bodily identity. Introspective identity is based off of the groups, mentalities, or beliefs that you align yourself with, and bodily identity is based off of the physical side of yourself. Whether physical or introspective, your identity impacts every action you take. Whether choices ranging from what colors you prefer to which college you want to attend are primarily based off of your introspective identity, which is a combination of both memory and consciousness, physical identity impacts how others perceive you. Consciousness is mainly the awareness of bodily identity as well as continuous introspective identify, while memory is awareness of introspective identity. These two different facets of identity are imperative in the distinction between bodily identity and introspective identity. In means of personal identity introspective identity (which is evident in memory), is essential, while bodily identity (based partially in consciousness) has less credit.

Simply put, what you are, what you try to be, and what other make you out to be are all very different things; and it was when my family moved to North Carolina that really started it all. About eight years ago I was ripped out of my cozy, loving home here in rainy Washington State and dropped into the desert prison what was Fayetteville, North Carolina. The pieces of my life, now lay shattered at my feet and I had to choose: Be the immigrant to the new culture that surrounded me or keep the knuckle white death grip on everything that I loved about home. So I picked them up and tried rearranging them to something new; keyword- tried. School had started a few weeks earlier (really it was only three) and I was the new kid. Walking down the hall that would lead me to my new class, new friends and a new life, I was met with many faces, all staring right at me, not one like my own, not one happy. It was then that my dreams of being a part of this new place, a puzzle piece that helped make this place, started to dim and fade. Not one person would talk to me, not one would smile and welcome me to school. In the weeks that followed I had very few friends; the boys would pick on me and call me names; when I sat down they moved their chair away or leave entirely. Everything I did and said, hated or, worse, laughed at. I was forced into a role that I never wanted, the exile; and no matter how hard I tried I would always

“It may not be a big deal to you because you’re not the one who has to give consent to end the life of the person who gave your life.”

Looking to belong can drive people to change their appearance and conform to the ways of others. With the hopes of fitting in, teens will often dress a certain way or let the world influence their interests, which should be an uninfluenced decision. Just because the popular girl couldn’t be fonder of the color purple, doesn’t mean that you have to be incredibly fond of it as well. It’s demeaning to watch people start listening to a band, to be a part of the fan club, or to start reading in order to fit in with the book club, because they mistake it for true

Throughout middle school, I conformed to what was expected. I changed my clothing style, the manner in which I conversed, and the people whom I conversed with to fit in. My interests often changed to what was popular at the time, and I always tried to make as many friends as possible so that I can look good in front of other people. I didn’t even know myself. I was what society had made me out to be. My friends weren’t my real friends; I didn’t have a single interest with most of them. Over time, I started to become unsatisfied with myself. This was until my transition to high school, when I made one of the best decisions of my

During my freshmen and sophomore years of high school I began to become frightened, high school was much tougher than middle school, the competition was troublesome, and certainly building new friendships had no time on my calendar. I didn’t fit in the teen society, and so I grew up to believe that I had excluded myself from that society and decided that my thoughts, intentions, circumstances, even goals were different from theirs.

When I started middle school, I didn't expect a very bitter sweet adventure. I found out things about myself that I didn't realize before and it took time to embrace who I am. I was in denial. That is the first stage. I was in denial that I was acting like myself, that this isn't a mask I am wearing. This is who I am, but deep inside I knew that I was only pretending. The fake smiles, the fake laugh. I was only lying to myself, feeding myself false lies to make me feel better. But, it made me feel worse. Hiding the side of me that I love when I am alone. I wanted everyone to like me, I wanted to be recognized even though I didn't recognized the person wearing the mask.

doesn’t have the luxury to restrict who you choose to become, but instead provide us building

I would use the striving for identity and relationship to others technique, so that the client and find a lead way to focus on the interesting things about herself rather than events that she did with her husband. Striving for identity and relationship to others is finding something interest about self. As described that the client lost her husband after 50 years, which can be difficult because the woman will feel some type of loneliness. If the client thinks about her husband, it may lead to depression. Striving for identity helps the client see the bigger picture, finding trust within them, and seeking their own answers to the conflicts in life. Clients think too much of what others think about them. For an elderly woman moving into a retirement

Forging an identity can be done by just simply pretending to be someone else. This may also be known as identity theft. Getting someone's picture, birthday, and other things about them will make it much easier to act like you are them. People will also most likely do it to get money or accomplishments from you, but any reason may very. Identity is personality, and as long as people can recreate what they think you're personality is like, there is a good chance they will be able to forge it. That is what forging an identity is, and how you could do

After class that day, the teacher called me to stay back and asked if I had any interest in a free ticket to the solar system exhibit at the Science Museum. My face lit up but I had to turn him down because I had a hockey tournament that weekend. During those years, I was not authentically myself. I stifled my passions in order to fit in and be accepted by others. By the time high school came around I was tired of being someone I wasn’t. My freshman year I quit hockey, created a group workout club called SWEAT, and joined student council. I began taking advanced placement classes and was finally able to quench my thirst for knowledge. I grew apart from my friend group and decided I didn’t need a clique. I was friends with my different people in many different groups and enjoyed being able to have many friends rather than a select group. Doing things for myself allowed me to flourish in my own way.

Many people question themselves, what is it exactly that makes them unique? What is it that defines them as a unique person that no one in the world possesses? In philosophy, these questions do not have just one answer, and all answers are correct depending on which theory appeals most and makes sense to you. In general, there are two ways people approach this question, some say that a person’s identity is the “self” that carries all of their experiences, thoughts, memories, and consciousness (ego theorists), and some say that a person’s identity is just a bundle of experiences and events that a person has been through in their life, these people deny that the “self” exists (bundle theorists). In this paper, I will be arguing that a person’s identity is just a bundle of experiences, denying the self and the memory criterion.