Identity.
My identity up until about the age of eighteen was soccer. A lot of my identity now is still soccer. I watch my team play every weekend, screaming at a television screen when things go south, and clapping/screaming vigorously when things go right. Here’s the issue with soccer, it was my identity; it’s all I knew and all I had ever pursued to an elite level. I got to places in soccer by knowing to some degree, I was pretty good at it, and it took me places I couldn’t have pictured myself going. When you’re asked to travel to play with other kids that are just as passionate as you about the thing you grew up doing, it gets pretty addicting. As you level up, and get into more competitive environments, it’s even more addicting. I had some of the most amazing experiences traveling across the United States playing for different coaches, playing with kids from different backgrounds, and playing in different environments all because a ball and two nets led me there. That is the definition of the pursuit. Pushing your boundaries to the lengths your talent, hard work, and mental conditioning will allow it to go.
What changed wasn’t the sport, or the friends, it was absolutely the politics. I fell out of love with the competition side of the sport. It put a dagger in my ability to make forward progress, and eventually led me to burnout. I had committed everything to the sport, only to fall out of love with it because of politics. It was disheartening at first, but as soon as I knew I was going to college just for the sake of going to college, I got over it pretty quickly. The issue was my identity was still wrapped up in it. I could hide my insecurities behind soccer, because it was something I was known for. Going into college, it was something I didn’t have to hide behind anymore, and that led me to painful lessons in self discovery.
I’m the type of person that needs something like soccer. Whether that be surfing, art, or anything that requires forward momentum. I like pushing myself to become great, and anything less, I consider a failure. When I first started surfing my whole identity was shattered. I was absolutely as bad as you could be at something. My friends Charles and Chris often teased me because I was not built for this sport. I didn’t know where to be, I didn’t know how to catch waves, the only thing I knew was that to first understand how to surf, I needed to understand how the ocean worked. It’s been eight years and I still haven’t figured it out. My identity in a lot of ways is tied into these external feats. What I was lacking for years and have grown in a lot of ways is detaching my identity from these things.
Often our external world is a mirror of our internal world. So when you’re constantly putting yourself down because you’re a failure at this activity that is supposed to be fun, it weighs down on your mental capacity to appreciate the things you are good at. That is the hardship of identity and knowing what it is that makes you unique and good at. Fortunately for me I chose about the hardest fields to go in to remind myself what I am not quite exceptional at, and learning to accept the humility that is associated with it. Wrapping yourself in external validations whether that be business, hobbies, careers, shouldn’t define who you are as an individual. Each of us possess traits that make the world interesting, and knowing and loving yourself through the good and bad bits makes you more complete as an individual than anything external ever would.
This is a reminder to everyone out there that may associate themselves with something, only for it to disappear overnight. You’re going to be okay, don’t be too hard on yourself, and just because you feel lost now, doesn’t mean you will be forever.
Thanks for reading.
With love,
Kai
Weekly Poem:
The demon sits
Whispering feint truths
It's the warriors who decide
Whether to fold or fight
The eternal mental battle
