Identity is a Tricky Thing

Day 1
Isn't it a curious thing that as you yourself get older you find out that your parents go far beyond the titles of mom and dad and are actually human beings? Imagine that! Your mom and dad had a story, a history, before you!
I was brought to hiding in my room and bursting into tears today. No, I'm honestly not one of those crazy hormonal teenagers, but today I definitely felt the need to release the pressure somehow. It was a combination of things, but the main trigger was my father. Since I'm starting this random blogging journey I was reminded that my dad had a blog of his own, so I proceeded to go and read everything that he himself has written and posted. His writing has always been a comfort, because he knows how to combine Bible verses and leave the reader feeling inspired to change. However, a couple of the entries reminded me of just how much my dad has sacrificed for our family. He's not necessarily satisfied with work and, like my sister and me, feels a disconnect with the culture we're living in now. But he continues on and despite it all is striving for happiness no matter how he is feeling. Above anyone I have met, my father is one of the most admirable and most constant in his love and devotion to both God and his family. My mother feels the same way as dad, in a different aspect of course, but her way of expressing her struggle to adjust is more verbal than my dad. She summed it up well though when she said that the "problem" surrounding coming back and transitioning was that she had just "completed" her dream. Ever since she was nineteen, my mother wanted to be a missionary, and now she's middle aged, doesn't feel particularly old, and yet she's done with her life goal, her dream! Your identity is so tied into these things, your goals, your ambitions, your dreams. The return to the states from the mission field creates an identity crisis. You're no longer involved in the things that defined you.
My own identity was so tied to the concept of being a student for the longest time. It always felt like I had to be the best, otherwise it was demeaning myself. Because of this, even now I fear challenge and am apt to give up or choose something that will play to my strengths. This cowardice in myself I continue to try and rectify. Maybe this is why one of my favorite quotes talks of bravery.

"A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is braver five minutes longer." -Ralph Waldo Emerson

It's good to remember that what you do definitely should not completely define who you are. Jobs change, schools change, test are failed, scholarships go to someone else, you complete a dream and suddenly feel adrift. These things can shape you, but should not control who you are or what you continue to be. I am still a missionary kid whether or not I go to the nice private Christian college or the larger public state school. I am still passionate about helping people and reading books whether or not I pass or fail my Anthropology exam. My parents are still themselves even though they can no longer call themselves "missionaries." Identity is what we make of it. Who are you? What are you going to let define you?