High school, the best years of your life.

Supposedly. Going into freshman year, I had high standards for what high school would be like. Friends, parties, Friday Night Lights, rigorous classes. I knew I would figure out exactly who I was. I was captain of the cheer team for three years, so you can imagine what my identity may have been and what my group of friends may have looked like. But I was also in band for three years—the complete opposite end of the spectrum. Not to mention I performed in the school's dance recital every year. Oh, and I finished my entire Associates Degree at the local college while still in high school.

I was all over the spectrum.

From being the academic nerd, to the popular cheer captain, to the beautiful dancer, to the band nerd: I was proud of each of my positions. I took on each of these roles at different points of the day every day for three years. It was fun, but it was confusing. Who exactly was I? Throughout my time doing these activities, I decided I was just an "everything" person – I would just put all of my energy into as many people and things as I could. I loved the pressure and I loved the attention. My identity might have been stretched out over a lot, but I thought that doing all of these things defined me.

I thought I had myself figured out.

But boy, was I wrong. I started college in the fall thinking I knew myself. I knew my passions, my abilities, my morals. And then my first semester away at school began. I no longer had cheer, band, and dance to identify with. Almost every single one of my friendships were challenged. I struggled to find time to practice my religion. I was just going through the motions and acting on impulse. I said and did things that senior-year me would have never thought of doing just a few months before. I was honestly really scared. I thought I was solidly me. But if I am not the solid version of me I thought I was, who am I?

I am me.

I am still me. Still the same skin, same voice, and same smile. The activities I participate in do not define me. My friends do not define me. My inconsistency with religion does not define me. I define me. Maybe today I am the best me I can be today, tomorrow I am even better, and the next day I am worse than both days. Each day changes and brings new opportunities and new obstacles. As long as I strive to be the best me I can be each day, I think I will be okay. And even if I am not my best me, it does not change me as a person. It simply shapes me into who I am working to be so I can be my best me more often.

I still don't know who I am.

And I don't think I will ever know. Nothing can absolutely define me. I am content with this. I have learned to take each day as it is and respond to each situation in the best way I can. I see my identity as infinitely changing, and that is perfectly fine.