Identity changes in time

I’ve been acting for most of my life.

Since I was 9, I’ve been involved in school plays and community theater. Putting on a face is easy for me once I know what you expect of me. Then, like that, I’m performing. All I have to do is introduce myself.

“My name is Olivia Smith.”

This is how a conversation goes in a small town in the USA. After introducing myself, the person I’m talking to gives me a blank stare, trying to figure out who I am. So I elaborate, saying my mom is Jenni Hickerson (her maiden name), and like that they want to know everything about how my family is and tell me how much I look like my mom. This response causes me to go into full “small town talk” explaining how my mom is doing well, the store she owns is good, busy but good. My grandparents are doing well and are healthy, enjoying vacation this week. Actually, my grandma just subbed at school for so and so. Usually I enjoy these conversations but there are times when I fake a smile, keep my answers short and run off quickly because I’m not in the mood to pretend that I know the person. This is when I am my mother’s daughter, smiling and listening. 

“My name is Olivia Smith.” “Tim’s daughter?” Over the summer I worked at the company where my dad works. We didn’t work anywhere close to each other, different buildings in fact, but still I was known. My dad is the head of the department of family health and he is known for his kindness. There, interactions are usually quick because we both have to get back to work. I put on a smile and answer their questions and get back to the task at hand. This is when I am my father’s daughter, polite but quiet, not prone to engage in long conversations. 

Then there are the interactions when I don’t have to introduce myself at all, where I’m comfortable to be myself with my friends and family. Where I can laugh so hard my stomach hurts and I can cry about anything I need to. I feel comfortable to be myself. I’ve let the people I care about see who I truly am. Being myself means showing the good, bad and the ugly. My family and friends have seen it all and then some. It’s the definition of taking off the mask. 

“Hey. My name is Olivia Smith, my major is communications and I’m from Fort Recovery, Ohio. That’s about an hour and a half north of here.” Right now, this is my least favorite. It may always be my least favorite but right now it’s for a different reason. College is a difficult transition for everybody but the identity shift that it has caused is interesting. I went from being confident in who I was to caring about what others thought of me. I got quieter and I don’t talk that much. I didn’t realize how much my identity was based on my friends or parents or hobbies or whatever else. On some level, it’s kind of cool to think about what new and exciting people I’ll meet and how different I will be. 

In the town I live in, names are everything. They tell how people know you. I didn’t have a big name, so I always had to elaborate on who I was related to. Since I didn’t have a big family name, I didn’t have the expectations that came with it. It allowed me to create an identity for myself. There were times I had to put on a face and act how someone expected me to. 

In college, no one knows me, or my name, or my family, or who I am as a person. I could completely reinvent myself. 

Identity is funny. We, as humans, are obsessed with figuring out ourselves, who we are as a person. I think I am all my aspects rolled into one — daughter, sister, friend and stranger. So I’d like to introduce myself: Hi, my name is Olivia Smith. I’m from Fort Recovery, Ohio. I go to college at Cedarville University. My parents are Tim and Jenni Smith. I am always learning new things about myself and the world.