What Is Self? On Culture, Confusion and Discovery
A little insight into my journey towards a more balanced, more authentic, self.
“You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then you read” - James Baldwin
This quote regularly runs through my mind. My upbringing was fairly worldly, considering its insular nature. In the small bubble of Hackney, I recall attending my culturally and ethnically diverse secondary school, then leaving for mosque, being the only Nigerian in a class full of Turkish kids. Later, I moved to a new mosque, where I was the only Nigerian among South Asian kids, all while navigating a predominantly anglo-white society, being raised as a Muslim, and so on. You get the point; it was culturally confusing.
I was pulled in different directions, but I embraced new experiences and performed well enough in school and socially to be considered generally successful by societal standards. Even as I navigated this journey with a bit of a chip on my shoulder, I was perpetually expected to embody the toughness and coolness associated with being a black man in the West. This expectation was probably slightly at odds with my true character, but following the script is the easy route. So, despite some initial dissonance, follow I did.
Fast forward to age 18, as I attend university, the struggle between societal expectations and personal interests heats up a notch. A new quarrel has entered the quandary; Who tf am I? I don’t feel like I have a hook to hang myself upon, a solid resting place upon which to lay the cozy jacket that is a sense of self. It's like standing at a crossroads without a clear direction, and the signs swap everytime you cross. Fortunately, being young and unaware at the time, I had plenty of time to think, at uni baby, eyy.
University was a confusing mess, which I believe is quite common. It presented a culture shock across multiple dimensions. The name of the game is not making that too apparent. Paired with an undercurrent of intellectual insecurity, it wasn't the greatest time to be Ibrahim.
My identity was like adhesive, it was weakened everytime it was switched or tested. The longer it was stuck to something, the more jarring it was going to be to yank it away and stick it to something else. This led to a bit of an identity crisis and laid the groundwork for an intellectual foundation that, to a lesser extent, still influences me today. The effect, I kind of just didn’t give a shit, about a lot of shit.
Spending half of my waking hours doing nothing, especially during my first year, intensified this feeling I learned to label as discontent. This, combined with peer pressure and internal struggles, left me feeling callous, irritable, and, mainly-- bored. I was tired of it all. This state couldn't persist indefinitely, but communication had never been my forte. How could I fix the issue when I didn’t know myself? I knew I needed to improve, but there seemed few avenues for growth.
Given my upbringing I already had a fair amount of experience being in places where I was the complete and utter black sheep, I prepared to challenge myself yet again. The key to this was stepping out of my comfort zone. At this stage I had experienced a fair amount of growth, but the gap between my childhood self and my 18 year old self hadn’t yet widened into the chasm that this shift would lead to.
So, I actively pursued new experiences and knowledge. Hanging out with people from different walks of life, that I would probably have never hung out with. Just being open. Doing it for the plot.
I adopted their routines, took part in their conversations, and interpreted their lives through my own lens. This was complemented by a voracious reading habit. My book choices, at this stage, revolved around self-help and finance – because a sound mind is anchored by financial literacy, obviously? – to fantasy, for that dollop of escapism. I immersed myself in Bloomberg News? (Why past me, why…) striving to decipher the barrage of charts and symbols. My learning extended to online courses in drawing, chart analysis, exercise routines, boxing, fashion, skin-care and hours spent on YouTube and Reddit. Anything to improve me.
If I were a sick man, content would be my panacea, and boy, there was a lot of medicine. University life offered a unique setting where I had no real responsibilities (I confess, my degree never truly challenged me, I knew how to do enough for a comfy 2:1). I began to grasp who I was and started to envision who I wanted to become. This journey of self-actualization was well underway.
As I learned more about the world and self, my understanding of the world began to shape my self. The once sharply delineated boundaries between 'I' and the world started to blur. The self-centred 'me, me, me' evolved into 'me within this highly intertwined, interdependent, and deterministic world,' which hits quite differently, if I do say so myself. In some ways, I remained unchanged, yet in others, I was diametrically transformed.
As the old version of myself was dismantled, a new me emerged, more open to opportunities and information. I was not yet the person I aspired to be, but I was infinitely closer. I became more comfortable with the uncomfortable yet remained equally perplexed.
“Isn’t it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back, everything is different…” - C.S. Lewis
My reading materials diversified, and conversations grew more complex. The intellectual challenge intensified. My reading expanded to include political manifestos, ranging from communism to alt-right ideologies, and I engaged in conversations with a diverse array of people, from LGBTQ individuals to my staunchly Muslim friends.
I pondered religion, philosophy, and purpose in my still-nascent understanding. As my capacity for thought broadened, so did my ability to articulate these ideas. This development fostered empathy, though not without its flaws.
I made mistakes, but these errors initiated a cycle of growth and self-improvement that was immensely beneficial, despite a tinge of toxicity. Immersing myself in this process led to a greater sense of fulfilment, accomplishment, and self-actualization. Yet, to my surprise, this journey also brought a new, subtle sadness, a quiet melancholy that needed addressing.
So, I delved deeper, once again turning the intensity up a notch. Constantly engaging, learning, and evolving. This journey brings more successes and more mistakes, more insights, and a broader, deeper knowledge.
For what? With this came an understanding of my own limitations, the folly of chasing after this phantasm of completion. This relentless pursuit was draining; I was going full circle. Here I was, ostensibly closer to being 'complete' than ever before – a better version of myself. Yet, paradoxically, I wasn't happier. In fact, I seemed happier when I was more confused, less 'complete'. I had gained more, but in some ways, I was less
Like Coyote chasing Road Runner, I found myself growing increasingly frustrated, caught in a relentless pursuit that seemed never-ending. It felt as though I was losing touch, pouring energy into consuming content that, paradoxically, drained me. This content often carried beliefs and worldviews at odds with my own values. Yet, I persisted, wading through this sludge, clinging to the notion that there could never be too much content. Eventually, I reached a breaking point.
An amalgamation of consumed content, I had become a content chimaera, using this as a shield to hide my true identity. A trojan horse, content chimaera, so I could fit in anywhere. I built a self-imposed fortress of solitude, akin to Superman's retreat, untouched by the world. I was superficially skilled in a few areas, but master of none, bolstered only by my own foetid arrogance and self-conceit.
The books, stories, and articles I had heavily relied upon had turned into a crutch, impairing my emotional authenticity. Authenticity itself became a commodity, a tool I wielded to manoeuvre through conversations. In doing so, I was creating distance.
Maybe I was wrong. The knowledge I acquired didn't benefit me as much as I had it would. A few years later, I realised I had forgotten most of what I'd read. Occasionally, during conversations, I could offer an insight into someone's worldview, but as my knowledge grew, I also understood how insignificant my views were to most people. A cruel matter of fact. I was just another person, as ordinary as any other guy you might pass on the street. Just another face in the crowd.
So, I leaned into that realisation, finding a quiet contentment in my own unimportance and developed a new philosophy as a result. I decided to nurture my own “garden” and invite others to share in its growth. Co-creating this space has and will bring me joy. The process of learning, connecting and growing with those around me, rather than constantly striving for optimization, became my source of happiness. The melancholy didn't disappear, but the background buzz was turned down.
One important lesson I learned was that it's okay to not always feel okay. Knowledge took many forms beyond content; it includes knowing how to make a friend laugh, reminding someone you love them, and simply not being a prick.
“Anything that's human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary” - Freg Rogers
I moved away from complexity, finding more pleasure in casual conversations and genuine smiles. While that past emotional immaturity occasionally resurfaces, and I still struggle with managing distance, being connected and present has proven to be just as valuable a source of knowledge as any book.
So, I made a conscious decision to reduce my media and content consumption. This includes TV shows, games, social media, books, articles – essentially, everything. Now, I spend more time on activities like writing, similar to what you're reading at this moment. This shift reflects a change in my approach: from passive consumption to active engagement, even if it doesn't align with the stereotypical image of a ‘cool guy'.
Finding joy in the simple things has become my new focus. Spending time with people, building and creating, rather than solely consuming, these are my new priorities. My life's treadmill still runs, but at a much slower, more manageable pace. I've come to realise that the treadmill never truly stops, so I might as well take it easy.