Labels are just language. They try to describe something you experience. They might do a good job of that, or they might be totally wrong, but they’re all attempts to describe you. They do not change what you are underneath. They do not control your experiences. You could call yourself an orange, but it will not magically turn you into an orange.
I think that a lot of people get caught in this trap. They think that their labels define them. If someone changes their label, that can shake up everything they thought they knew about themselves.
In reality, changing a label doesn’t change who you are. It can help you change who you are if you want it to, but using a different word doesn’t make you instantly transform. It doesn’t make your experiences go away or invalidate you. You could call me a “skrunglewhapper” and it wouldn’t really change anything about me, just be a silly set of sounds that someone put an arbitrary meaning to. No matter what you call me, I’m still here living the same life.
I don’t control how other people see me. I can use all the words I want and try to impress my idea of what they mean on them so they get some better reflection of me, but their experiences with language will always be filtered through their own brain, which in turn is shaped by their life experiences that are out of my control too. How they see me is fundamentally shaped by who they are and where they’ve been.
People use the words that make sense to them, and that’s a lens into how they see the world. But all that matters is whether it’s practical enough to work with. If it’s way off in a way that causes outright problems in communication or collaboration, then I might nudge. But most of the time, it works well enough that it doesn’t matter if they call you a bouba or a kiki. You both get the idea. The words did their job.
Language is just a tool, and it’s important to remember that. Focus on what helps you and don’t worry too much about what you call it.
If a word doesn’t help, let go of it. You are not words. You are you.
Identities as Subconscious Strategies
We all have identities. Arguably, any statement of the form “I am a (word)” is an identity. Of course, we usually reserve the term for the statements which feel especially core to us in describing and predicting ourselves, and in expressing our values and aspirations. Such identities may have their benefits, but they also come with a number of perils. In particular, we are prone to a) become distressed by any perceived threat to an identity, and b) become utterly inflexible around shifting, modifying, or discarding identities. These effects can be detrimental to both personal wellbeing and goal attainment. Sanity, however, can be regained if we recognize that our identities do not exist unto themselves, and are instead [often subconscious] strategies towards the attainment of specific goals and values.
Consider a person who prides themselves on their identity as a writer: “I am a writer.” This identity is precious because there is an implicit statement of the form “I am a writer, (and therefore I will have a job, income, status, friends, lovers, and my life will be good).” The implicit statement is the goal to be obtained and the explicit identity is the strategy for achieving that goal. The value of the identity derives from the goal it supports.
I describe these plans as subconscious because more often than not they are not articulated. Many people have an identity around being intelligent, but I expect that if you ask them why this important, they will need a few moments to generate their answer. I also expect that in many cases the belief in the goodness of an identity is absorbed from society and it is social drives which motivate it for an individual. In that case, the full identity statement might go “I am a (word) and therefore society will approve of me” whether or not an individual would admit it. In the most general case, it’s “I am a (word) and therefore goodness.”
If threats to identity are really about threats to goal-attainment, then the key to working with identities becomes a) surfacing the hidden goals and, b) ensuring there is security around attaining those goals. Tell the child that they’re not cut out to be writer and they’ll tantrum, but tell them they’re not cut to be a writer yet have phenomenal painting skills, and they might just listen. Substitute one less viable plan for a new and better one. Other variations include exposing that the goal in fact has already been attained, as in the case of the writer-musician above, or recognizing that the identity in fact is going to be an ineffective plan regardless, e.g. giving up on being a goth because you realize that no one thinks goths are cool anyway.
Ruby, 2017, Identities are [Subconscious] Strategies