Feb. 25, 2022

The Joy of Knowing Who You Are

Have you ever been grocery shopping and struggled to find something, only to realize it was right in front of you, but they had changed the label? I don’t know about you, but I am always suspicious of that. If they changed the label, did they change the contents as well? We are conditioned to use the label to know what is inside, but we rely so heavily on the label that we don’t trust that it matches the contents if it changes. Will it taste the same? They even try to reassure us by adding, “New look, same great taste!” But there is always a skeptical side of me that doesn’t quite believe it is the same on the inside. Do we know the inside well enough to see beyond a change in the label?

We do that with people, too. The logos on our shirts and hats, the bumper stickers on our cars, even the way we tell people about ourselves are labels. And, like it or not, the contents of our hearts and souls are judged by those labels. When you identify yourself by a label, even if it just hints at what you support politically or otherwise, you own everything that comes with it. If you don’t think so, ask yourself how much you read into seeing a Biden sign, a MAGA hat, a COEXIST bumper sticker or a Christian fish emblem. I’d bet you make many assumptions about a person based on that single label. Maybe it’s a Red Sox hat or a Yankees hat, or, lately, wearing a face mask or not. The label says something about your beliefs, yes, but does it say everything? Of course not. And when the perception of the label changes, you are at the mercy of another’s interpretation of it. Unless you know who you truly are underneath.

At one time, I would have referred to myself as a die-hard Red Sox fan. I had hats, t-shirts, sweatshirts, a jacket, jerseys, even a GOBOSX license plate. I plastered myself in that label. And it would start many conversations. I was a proud member of Red Sox Nation. But then something changed. The Red Sox organization started making decisions that I really didn’t support. I saw aspects of some of the players and fans that I really didn’t like. I saw Major League Baseball make decisions that I completely disagreed with. I reached a point where I was so uncomfortable with enough aspects of it, that I couldn’t find any joy in the game anymore. So, I stopped watching. I got rid of my hats, t-shirts, everything. I even gave up my iconic license plate that I’d had for more then 20 years. I have not watched a major league game in more then 2 years and have no desire to watch one this year. I realized the labels I was wearing no longer represented something that I agreed with.

I still love baseball, but what I love is the simplicity of the game coupled with the skill and strategy it takes to play it well. It’s a beautiful game, but the labels were not. I will still stop and watch a little league game for the joy and innocence of the game itself. But when I see hints of those aspects that no longer resonate with my heart, I’ll walk away because those labels no longer represent my love of the game.

I’ve realized that applies to everything in my life. Knowing who I am inside, at my core, allows me to choose what people see about me. I pride myself on being genuine with people. A label abdicates that control to however someone else chooses to interpret it. Some labels I may be okay with, such as calling myself a Christian. And while I realize that, too, is a label, it is one that I’m proud of. People will still make assumptions about me based on it, but I know what I believe. I know who I am, and I try to live my life as an example of that faith. I fail, frequently, but I still know what it is inside to be a child of God.

We are all free to choose our labels and how we identify ourselves. We just need to know the contents of our hearts well enough that we can be true to our core in the face of what our labels represent to others. When you know, really know, who and what you are inside, a label has no meaning. How we treat each other is the only label that should matter. Be brave. Be kind.