in the mirror

What identifies oneself?

The specific way you do your hair each morning, Your favorite outfit, The song you play each morning, The sport you do each Sunday. What is it?

As I go back to school I ask myself that question a lot more than usual: what does someone think of when they think of me? I think a lot of people ask themselves that question. Yet said question usually doesn’t come with a precise answer. I wish it did. 

I recently left a big part of my life for the past two years rather abruptly due to my own decision. No one else. The dread I felt when I saw the event on the calendar each week, the negativity that brewed whenever I thought of the mere idea, the anguish I felt after a long rehearsal. It all suddenly ended because I wanted it to. And it feels amazing. Yet as soon as we sent the email I felt like I made a mistake. But I knew I didn’t. Yet I made a mistake. Why do we feel that way? 

Right before I went to bed that night (this night), I knew why. I based my self worth and identity around it. That was the first trait I would say when I introduced myself. It was a nametag I wore for years. A nametag I wanted gone due to how heavy it got on my shirt. Consequently, when I removed it I lost an identifier of myself. But did I? My name is still Harper Robbins. I am still seventeen years old. My favorite food is still blackberries. I still play the bass. I still write. I still own a business. I am still Harper. 

So what identifies oneself? When I think of those around me, I don’t think of what they do, I think of what they’ve done. If someone were to ask me about my father, I would tell them that he’s a very dedicated and determined man with a big heart ready to love. I would tell them that he is the quietest yet most prominent cheerleader that always has a story or words of wisdom to share. Oh, and that he’s a producer and cyclist. Those are just titles, though. Aren’t they?

If someone asked me about my friend Emily, I would tell them how thoughtful they are in their gifts even if they don’t have a lot of money to spend. I would tell them to go to her for anything, because you will never feel any judgment by doing so. I would tell them how interesting they are to know because everyday feels different with her. I would tell them to go shopping with her; she is brutally honest. I would say a lot. Oh, I met her through the orchestra. 

The “identity” of all of us isn’t the ones we put on a resume for future employers to see. Okay- maybe it is, but that’s different. No one else sees that. I have a spreadsheet worth of titles, but no one else sees that. The identity that comes with your name, your presence, is the one that you unintentionally paint through emotions and actions you don’t purposely make. As I’m writing this I can hear, “but you do identify people through their titles.” And you do. You can ask who that girl is in this band, or who’s this person who works in marketing, or who’s that guy in your english class? These thoughts made me nearly scrap this entire thought process. But there’s a difference. 

The things that identify you to strangers are different than what establishes your identity to those close. Yes, you start out knowing this person as “the girl from orchestra” but soon that girl from orchestra becomes “the person I’m sharing everything with because they’re the kindest soul I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.” There’s a difference.

So hi; I am Harper Robbins, commonly known as Harper Hues. I am a bassist, artist, entrepreneur, and the person you probably know as the “girl from school with a business, I think?” But, apparently I’m also someone with a sunny appearance, someone with a hunger for knowledge, someone to talk to about anything (allegedly), and also someone who really likes blackberries. 

Hello!