Who the hell am I?

It was one of those evenings where I found myself surrounded by people—they were laughing, sharing stories about their lives, and expressing their opinions. I was there physically, sitting among them, but mentally, I was somewhere else. My mind was busy, overthinking about what I should say and how I should act. What if I opened up and they judged me? Or worse, what if I didn’t say anything, and just… faded into the background?

This wasn’t the first or the only time I felt this way. Again and again, I found myself caught in this place—not fully engaged but too aware to simply relax. There was a mental tension, like a tug-of-war between the person I was trying to be and the person I actually felt like being. I feared saying the wrong thing, of somehow betraying this self-image I’d crafted so carefully. But looking back, I started to wonder: What was I even trying to protect? And why did it matter so much?

For a long time, I thought self-image was something stable—a core sense of “me” that I’d carry from place to place. And the crazy part is that this sense of self I had wasn’t even real; it was something I had imagined and set as an “ideal” version of me—the version of “me” I thought I was supposed to be. Because of this, I resisted anything that made me feel different from that imagined self. And living up to this ideal version cost me a lot, from mentally freezing in social situations, to not feeling ‘authentic’ every now and then. I had to ask myself, How attached had I become to this idea of my self-image?

Take my last internship, for example. I was in a completely new field, and everything felt uncomfortable at first. I had to build relationships, create systems from scratch, and solve problems in areas where I had no experience. There was a voice in my head telling me that I wasn’t capable or “cut out” for the job, but I pushed through because I had committed to it.

Leaving that internship was an eye-opener. When it was time to move on, I had expected to feel a strong sense of attachment, like I was leaving a piece of myself behind. But surprisingly, it was easier than I thought. I realized I wasn’t letting go of an identity; I was letting go of a role. This shift made me see that my self-image didn’t need to be tied to any single factor, like my role or environment. I could move on, try something completely new, become something new, and still carry this experience with me.

Another moment that shifted my self-image came during our travel project that involved me spending time in a small village, learning about local life. Before going, I’d assumed I’d feel out of place or like I was “visiting” another reality. But soon enough, I felt grounded and connected, like I could belong there. My usual self-image—an “outsider” to this way of life—kind of melted away. I didn’t feel like I was pretending to be someone else or struggling to “find myself” in this unfamiliar setting. Instead, I felt a sense of freedom, as if I could be anyone—or no one at all. (In fact, while reflecting on it, I also realised that I feel this way on each one of my trips, no matter how small, and that is part of the reason I am drawn to travelling.) That trip strengthened the idea that I didn’t have to cling to a specific idea of myself to feel comfortable or authentic. In fact, I found parts of myself I didn’t know existed. So much so that I will be going to another village for this year’s travel project ; )

These experiences are just a glimpse of what made me have this realization, and have shown me that my self-image doesn’t have to stay the same. Instead of seeing myself as one particular “type,” I’m learning to embrace the fact that I’m a bit of everything—and sometimes a bit of nothing at all. I don’t belong neatly in one place or fit within one identity, and maybe that’s the way it is. I’m definitely finding comfort in the process of constant change, in being the kind of person who’s always in the middle, open to whatever’s next.

I’m learning that authenticity isn’t about maintaining a perfect image, but about being honest with myself. It’s about recognizing that change is not a threat to who I am, but the very essence of my being.

– Shardul