The Changing Mirror
By Cammi Norville
I look up and am met by my own gaze. I take a moment to study my reflection.
Blonde hair tinged with red that gets more brunette each year, blue eyes ringed with some smile lines, fair skin speckled with countless freckles from too many hours spent in the sun and not enough sunscreen. I’m often mistaken for a high schooler despite having graduated high school almost six years ago.
So it’s safe to say, more or less… I look like I always have.
Physical appearance is just a small part of what makes up who we are as humans. Family, culture, sexual orientation, hobbies, values, and personality are all things that can contribute to our personal identities.
Technically, anything and everything that we experience can affect, add to, or mold our personal identity.
It’s hard to remember what I felt like my identity was as a kid. I definitely wasn’t spending my time reflecting on my self-growth as an elementary and middle-schooler. I know I found joy and belonging in dance. It would be something I would carry with me through college. I was involved in Girl Scouts, but eventually chose to drop it because it wasn’t actually important to me. I was just doing it because my mom and sisters had done it.
Overall, I think I was just focused on living up to what was expected of me. Being the youngest of three girls, I felt, even as a kid, that I had to keep up with the standards my sisters set and my parents expected. I was still figuring out what I liked and disliked, who I was, and what I wanted to do. I imagine most kids were in the same boat, not quite knowing what life had in store for them, just enthusiastically along for the ride.
In high school, my identity still revolved around doing well in school and dance, but other things were starting to take shape too.
I was still a goody-two-shoes, but a more muted version of what I had been in middle school. I began to shape my own opinions about things and, like most teenagers, decided I hated being told what to do. I was still unsure of myself, though. Similar to many young girls at this age, I needed reassurance from those around me.
In college, doing well in school was still a huge part of my life, but things were starting to change. I had grown up relatively sheltered; I went to a private, Catholic school from Kindergarten to 12th grade, which I’m thankful for in some ways, looking back. But the schooling lacked variety in other ways.
I purposefully chose to go to a college in a different state than my family and friends because I wanted to be forced to make my own way. And I did.
I was exposed to new ideas and ways of thought. I made some new friends and lost some old ones. Asked questions. Fell in love. Began to understand that my love for the outdoors and wildlife was non-negotiable in my life. I began to plan out what I thought I wanted out of life in my 20s (which is very different from what I want now, I might add).
It was also during these years that I became the most aware of my flaws.
Not in a negative, self-conscious way, but in a way that made me go, Hmm, maybe this is something I can work on to better myself. Traits like being too judgemental about things I found different or didn’t understand completely, or struggling to convey my more difficult emotions, such as anger or sadness, in a healthy manner.
Now, post-college, this is where the big shift happened for me.
I had just spent three and a half years primarily finding my identity in doing well in school, dance, my college friends, and my long-term relationship. And then, after moving away from my college town and bouncing from place to place, job to job, I didn’t have any of those things.
I chose to pursue a non-traditional career path that, so far, has been made up of seasonal, temporary positions in which I move every few months to different states. In doing so, I wasn’t able to find solace in dance, my college friends, or my romantic relationship (which eventually ended).
Because of this career path, my entire outside environment was and still is, in a constant state of flux.
I couldn’t even turn to those places and people and hobbies I had found my personal identity in. They were all left behind.
I struggled with this, because where and what I found my identity in made me feel safe. It offered stability.
I clung to my identity as a lifesaver as I was tossed about the chaotic and turbulent ocean that is life. Humans fear change, and, arguably, internal change is the scariest. In the past, when I could feel the start of a new shift in my identity, I would begin to feel lost, but could lean into my stable physical environment for reassurance. And likewise, if my physical environment was changing, my stable personal identity was there for comfort.
For the first time though, my physical surrounding environment and my inner personal identity were evolving at the same time.
And it scared the shit out of me.
I was forced to find comfort and safety in myself. I began to detach my identity from physical things, like people and places. Through a lot of time spent alone due to the nature of my lifestyle (along with being a natural introvert and actually enjoying being alone), I learned to become okay with the lost feeling that has continued to follow me around.
I’m still working temporary, seasonal positions that cause me to move states and camp in pretty remote places most of the time, so while I’ve somewhat settled into the newest version of my personal identity over the last year, my physical environment is still pretty hectic and unpredictable. I’d like to say that I’ve brought constant change into my identity, that it’s part of what makes me, me. I still find change scary, but in a more exciting, positive way, rather than something to shy away from.
A lot of my favorite life memories and adventures have been the result of a seemingly “scary” change.
——
I recently met up for drinks with an old friend from high school. We’ve stayed in patchy contact over the years, but never really know what’s going on in each other’s lives. As we chit-chatted, reminiscing about high school shenanigans, I kept thinking how cool it is to watch my childhood friends grow up and find their way in this crazy world.
My friend is foundationally the same person he was when I met him freshman year 10 years ago, but now he has a career, different hobbies, and interests. He’s a brighter, shinier, more sure version of his 15-year old self.
He had asked me what was the biggest thing that had happened to me in the past few years, and I told him it was the change and growth I felt and experienced as an individual.
This change is so striking to myself, but I wonder if people in my life can see how my identity has changed since they first knew me.
I don’t wonder this because their opinions have power over how I live or feel. I’m just curious if the change in me that has occurred inside is visible from the outside as well. I’m interested in how people perceive me in a more analytical way, rather than actually caring about those perceptions. It’s similar to the way that I wonder if my perceptions of people align with their own views of themselves.
Personal identity is anything but stagnant. It evolves as one grows and matures… Or at least, it should.
Can you imagine a world in which a person’s identity stayed the same the entire span of their life? Never discovering new hobbies or interests, never developing their interpersonal skills, always falling back on the habits they grew up with?
Like it or not, change is an inevitable part of life, and we can either embrace the change and apply the lessons learned to better ourselves, or we can just revert back to our old selves.
When I reflect on my life and who I am, I’m proud of the changes that 2020 and 2021 brought. These years showed me that I’m capable of more than I thought and I’ve grown in so many ways for the better.
I’m less judgmental now. In the end, we’re all just little humans trying to figure out life and we can all be kinder to each other). I’ve made progress in expressing my thoughts and feelings more clearly, and not keeping things so bottled up, something that I need to continue to work on.
I haven’t danced in about two years now, so something that made up a huge part of my identity for nearly fifteen years is no longer a huge focus. I’m more passionate about the outdoors, land stewardship, and wildlife than I ever have been, always trying to further educate myself on these topics, embracing the “granola” lifestyle as best I can. Seeing as how I spend a lot of time living out of my Subaru and camping, I think I’m headed in the right direction.
When I look in the mirror, I physically look the same as the girl from high school.
But I’m so much more now.
To me, life is a journey of constant self-improvement. I never want to plateau in my self-journey. I know there are always ways to grow. I’m proud of how far I’ve come and I’m excited to see new changes in my identity in the years to come.
Cammi Norville is a traveling wildlife technician and Dead Foot Collective’s social media manager. She enjoys hiking, camping, climbing, and pretty much any other outdoor activity. Follow her on Instagram: @_nomadic_cam.
