The Never-Ending Metamorphosis of Losing Myself
As people who are creatively inclined, one has no clear vision of oneself. We create variants, personas, and alter egos that fit us like a second skin. But what we realize again and again is that this skin becomes too tight. It no longer fits and forces us into images with which we can no longer identify. We have to shed it, peel it off, reinvent ourselves. If we don't do it frequently, this skin keeps us artificially small. We cannot break out and do what is natural. Imitate evolution, adapt, re-evolve.
In a society that lives on personas and alter egos, we cannot free ourselves easily.
Do you work in a supermarket? For the time from 9 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon, you are a simple employee in the eyes of the customers. It is as simple as that. You leave the meaning of your name, your identity, at home for a bit. You are asked for milk and canned peas, but of course not about how your mother is or what you dreamt last night. As soon as you wear the symbol of the work uniform, you serve only that role. And many like this strict and simple separation. Many may not want to be themselves 24/7. It's simple, the boundaries are clear.
Artists and other exotics create this image for themselves to a certain extent, people from ordinary jobs might say they have infinite freedom, but freedom is a double-edged sword. What artists, myself included, often try to do frantically is to free themselves from all stereotypes and social roles or to push one alter ego to perfection. Of course, that is not possible. I can't influence what the granny on the train across my seat thinks of me, or the banker, or the woman in the cosmetics shop. Sooner or later, everyone will form an individual image, and categorize.
Nevertheless, people naturally try to present themselves as favorably as possible. At best, as a leading force in society. Or in artistic circles, as eccentric as possible. As wild as possible, as special as possible, as avant-garde as possible. In the process, the core is sometimes forgotten. You learn to live with these roles and play different characters for different people. You feel like you owe these people, who you don't even really know, a perfect version of yourself. But what does that even mean?
What remains when you are alone? What do you play just for yourself when no one is watching? Questions you have to face if you want to lose yourself. It takes a lot of courage to break through your trained roles, because what if in the end there is nothing left? What if you identify so much with those roles that you've actually forgotten what you used to like? What are my principles? Who am I actually?
I can take away your hope for an answer right away. You will never fully find out. But try it for yourself once. Lose yourself.
