What is identity, really?
Is it described by the clothes I wear? The people I hang out with?
The status I hold because my parents are rich or I am educated?

Is it described by the scars I got when running from my perpetrator Or the pain I feel whenever I walk passed the place that almost ended my life? Is it described by the support groups that I go to, to get over my fears And pick up the thousand pieces of my life?

Is it described by the school I went to, my past or what I ought to be
Religion, culture, belief, what my ancestors and parents want me to be
The confidants, friends or colleagues that I have? Is it the colour of my skin, my name, surname or my clan And their code of conduct or how I was raised?

The environment I grew up in, the teachers that taught how to be The books my mother read when tucking me in? Is it the family, neighbours, role models or the experiences I have had so far?

Nothing and no one can determine my Identity
I see myself the way the Lord sees me

That is my Identity