I’ve read about people who “find themselves” in college or shortly thereafter. At one point, I thought that might happen to me too. Other people I’ve known seem to have always known who they were. But me? I’ve been on a quest to “find myself” for 40-something years now, and it shows no sign of letting up.

Recently, I hit upon a new idea on how to go about this.

What Didn’t Work

In the past, I tried other methods, a couple of them fairly self-destructive, and none of them very helpful.

The thing I tried the hardest was seeking an epiphany or word from the God (or gods) who allegedly runs the universe and sometimes interacts with mankind. Gods proved elusive, their holy books nonsensical and immoral.

Something else I tried, somewhat less strenuously but for a longer period of time, was examining each belief and opinion I ever held. As one might expect, doing so served to strengthen some viewpoints and weaken others. Some were discarded outright after careful consideration. The upshot of this is that I have come to be, I think, a better person. But it didn’t leave me with a sense of who I am.

One other thing I tried, partly as a result of the previous two efforts, was giving up. I took this one to extremes a few times, giving up not only on my quest to understand myself, but simultaneously giving up on careers, friends, and even on life in general. As one might expect, this didn’t go well.

Succinctly

The closest I ever got to accurately describing myself in a brief phrase was in the title of my poorly written and never-to-be-finished autobiography, which I began during my 20s. It was called “The Lone, Questioning Man”. Lone because I was often alone, often enjoyed being alone, and even more often lamented being alone. More specifically, like everyone else, I felt I was alone in my quest. Questioning because it seems that’s all I do. Even when I’m making a definitive statement, I am quietly but persistently questioning the veracity of that declaration. Man because it seemed to have more literary oomph than “person”.

New Method

In January of 2019, a thought struck me as I was falling asleep one night. Fortunately, I wrote it down.

“Go back and see what hasn’t changed. That’s the key of knowing the CORE of who I really am.”

Wil C. Fry, 2019.01.16

In other words, I thought, maybe instead of constantly documenting what’s changed and why, I should look at what hasn’t changed about me. So I set about to see if there is a defining set of characteristics about me, Wil The Human, which hasn’t changed. Immediately after beginning this explorative and introspective blog entry, I thought of a few things I’ve always been. As I let this sit for a couple of months, I thought of others.

Environmentalist

I’ve already written (here and here) about how I’ve always been an environmentalist. Perhaps it’s because I was a youngster during the 1970s energy crisis. Maybe it’s because I read the Bible as a child and one of the very first jobs God gave to humans in the Bible story is to take care of the animals and the land. Maybe it’s because it’s such an obvious thing to protect the ecosystem one requires for survival.

Skeptic

And above I noted that I always question, even if usually internally. I can’t think of any declarative statement I’ve ever made or heard that I didn’t immediately doubt. And I’ve learned to include a healthy dose of doubt when other people claim anything. In other words, I have always been a skeptic. I am able to hear a new idea and examine it without either believing it or disbelieving it until I learn more.

Punching UP

Another thing that came to mind as I worked on this is that I have always favored the underdog.

A 2015 Vox piece suggests this is a common sentiment, that it’s part of human nature, and that almost all of us do it. (Possible explanations include schadenfreude, a desire for justice, or something else.) However, based on observed behavior, I’m not convinced it is actually so common — especially if the person in question is part of a more powerful group or in some other way aligned with the power structure. (For example, we frequently see men hesitating to support women’s equality, or white people failing to advocate for ethnic minorities.)

Regardless, I’m convinced, whether rationally or otherwise, that I have a deeper bent for this than the average person. For example, I think the ideal justice system would favor the person who can’t afford an attorney over the person who can, instead of the other way around. Clearly this isn’t an incredibly common viewpoint; otherwise more voters would work against such a system instead of favoring it.

My earliest experiences with this were in relation to watching sports on TV. From my earliest memories, I would root for the team or participant expected to lose. I don’t know what made me this way; I simply remember it, and know that this principle has been applied to other things in my life as well.

As a child, this tendency mostly manifested as simple hopes or wishes — “I hope low-rated Team X beats top-ranked Team Y.” As I came of age, this tendency expanded into political and social viewpoints. Whether it is poor people versus the system, marginalized communities versus the mainstream, victims versus their persecutors or abusers, or any other power imbalance I’ve become aware of, I always tend to favor the group or person with less inherent power. This is what makes me a feminist, an ally to minority religious groups, an advocate for racial/ethnic minorities’ equal rights and representation, an opponent of police brutality, and so on.

I’ve heard it described as “punching up” — as opposed to punching down, which is using one’s position of privilege to malign or poke fun at some oppressed group. I’m certain that I have “punched down” on occasion, without realizing it. But I don’t want to. And I don’t like it.

Avoider Of False Dichotomies

Though my initial upbringing was within a church that specifically believed in good and evil with no shades of gray between them, I often took issue with this — even as a child. I was accused of “lawyering”, both at home and at school, because I looked for loopholes, exceptions, and middle ground in the systems of rules that others had built around me. And I try to take this into account with my own children. Authority figures in my church and family liked rules to be simple either-or maxims, even when reality obviously presented gray areas.

When presented with “A or B” questions, I almost always wondered “Are those the only two options?”

Eventually, this mindset helped me to understand that sexual preference is a spectrum, rather than only either gay or straight. And it’s what led me to reject the binary gender in modern culture, recognizing that gender too has a middle ground. It helped me to easily see that humanity isn’t divided into “races” but rather displays a continuum of possible phenotypes. It’s what kept me aligning as an “independent” rather than joining a political party. And it’s why I hate survey questions that forget to include a “none of the above” option.

I think people work themselves into corners by insisting on a minimum number of options, not just in social or political views, but in their personal lives as well. “Should we raise taxes to add more lanes or just live with these traffic jams?” What if the better option was improved city planning so fewer people need to travel through those same intersections four times a day?

Socially Awkward

I’ve occasionally mentioned this (here and here), and it does seem to be an always-on defining characteristic of me — at least in my inner life. Regardless of what it looks like on the outside, on the inside I’m having a difficult time in social situations. I don’t know if this is something one is born with, or something that develops. If the latter, influencing factors might include: moving often during childhood, living far from extended family, having not-very-social parents, some combination of these, or something else entirely.

Practical

I realized after writing this, while composing a newer blog entry, that I have always been a heavily pragmatic person, especially when it comes to rules, social mores, and education.

I have a hard time following a rule, and always have, if no one can explain the reason for the rule. This is even more true when I can think of obvious reasons to do otherwise. One thing I always appreciated about my boss at my newspaper job was that she knew the reason(s) for every rule, and was willing to explain them to me.

One hilarious argument my wife and I engage in every so often concerns the “no white after Labor Day” custom. Okay, it’s not so much hilarious as it is frustrating, but I can’t help but point out that (1) Labor Day has only been around for 125 years, (2) white is a pretty poor choice of clothing color on any day — especially for anyone who works for a living or has children, and (3) such rules are inherently classist. We have similar fun disagreements about which side of the plate the fork should occupy, or which hand should hold the knife. There is, currently, no practical reason for these rules/customs, and thus I refuse to abide by them.

Pacifist

I have weaker evidence for this one than for the others above, especially once you learn I was (in 1990) a finalist for a slot in the Air Force Academy and that I wanted to be a fighter pilot. But I have never understood resorting to violence as anything other than as a last resort. This applies both to interpersonal situations and to international conflicts. (I don’t refer here to movie, cartoon, or video game violence.)

I have never liked to be around people who are violent, even in “fun” or “harmless” ways. I remember as a teen having a great deal of respect for a couple of men in our church, both for their passion in religion and for their personal achievements outside the church. But one day at a church-related retreat, at a campground owned by our denomination, these two men got into a “prank war” with each other. It began harmlessly enough, like removing the other’s towel while he was in the shower or temporarily hiding the other man’s car keys. But both escalated quickly and soon there were people being dowsed with fire extinguishers and personal property being destroyed. I observed in horror, and recoiled visibly when one of them requested my assistance in retaliating against the other. One of my friends had been about to join in, but saw my reluctance and instead stayed out of it. This is just a single example of dozens of instances I could cite where I withdrew from social situations and even relationships because of violence that someone described as harmless or fun.

I have never understood the need some men (and assumably some women) feel to retaliate with violence to mere words. “But he insulted my mother, man”, one tried to explain to me. Okay. That was rude, and probably uncalled for, but it made no sense to respond by punching them in the face.

Always Changing

Like me, you probably know people whose significant changes all occurred prior to adulthood. Obviously, all of us are constantly changing in some ways, but here I’m thinking of personality changes, likes and dislikes, outlook on the world — those kinds of things. I have met a startling number of people who settle all of that somehow when they’re young and (apparently) never reconsider any of it. I can’t comprehend it.

I was reminded of this characteristic while reading John Scalzi’s blog entry The Things You Outgrow. Scalzi mentioned the phenomenon of going back to revisit something you enjoyed in younger years and finding that it sucks. This happens to me all the time, of course, because I’m not the same person I was when I first experienced the thing. But so many people I’ve known don’t experience this. They loved some book as a teen and they still love it now. Their favorite song hasn’t changed in 45 years. They revisit some home or park or something they haven’t seen in decades and experience the same emotion they did upon first seeing it.

Many times, I wanted to be the person who never changed. I have often wished that what I prefer today can remain the thing I prefer for the rest of my life. Just to simplify things. And maybe this will become more true as I get older. But a safer bet is that I should recognize this about myself. It could save money in the long run: “Don’t buy that Bluray movie, because five years from now you won’t like it anymore.”

And as I added this section, it struck me that maybe this is why it’s always been a struggle for me to define myself. Because as soon as I do, that thing about me changes. This fits well into the theme of this page, which is to list and describe the few things about me that have stayed the same over the years.

Conclusion

I’m sure I’ve missed something, despite thinking about this for months. If I remember something else, I’ll add it. But this is what I have so far.

• Environmentalist
• Skeptic
• Advocate For The Unempowered
• Avoider Of Dichotomies
• Socially Awkward
• Practical
• Pacifist
• Always Changing

At least some of those, I can take comfort/pride in, and the others have always been with me so that I don’t notice them sometimes.