Sometimes I look at pictures, from only a year ago, and I don’t recognize myself. There I am with dark long hair, elongating my already oval face, my gangly limbs in another awkward pose. It’s mostly my hair though, that changes. It started out with a cut just to my shoulders, and then suddenly I went with the pixie cut.
I let it grow out a bit and decided to dye it blonde. The blonde was the biggest change. It was on a whim, I’d never dyed my hair before but suddenly I wanted to imagine myself differently. With the new hair I was suddenly more sophisticated. I stopped smiling with my teeth all the time. I wasn’t afraid to wear red lipstick.
My change in appearance may have been an attempt to show myself that I was no longer a young girl. Unconsciously moving into the new inner habitat I had cultivated for myself. It wasn’t as if one day I woke up and looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself. It was a slow distancing from the girl I used to be.
Physical changes in appearance naturally happen over time. We adjust, and adapt. What is truly unsettling is when we feel a change in our identity. A shift in the person we thought ourselves to be.
I could write about the amazing experiences I had abroad (there are plenty) but there’s no way I can fully capture my experience, without addressing one of my greatest challenges. I found myself caught, in between two versions of myself.
When I decided to study abroad, I was choosing to leave behind family and friends. Which can be painful, but I knew I was in search of something more. My restless spirit would never be satisfied with Laramie alone. I needed new people, a new environment, new adventures. St. Thomas was a completely different place for me to explore.
So I left, knowingly making myself the outsider. Which can be uncomfortable at first, but it’s also thrilling. You are perceived differently with every stranger you meet. You can re-create yourself. You are no longer bound to the reputation others have created for you at home.
Over time, I started building a new life. I had new friends, an extended family that I had chosen. I learned the intricate details of the culture. The slang, the music, the restaurants, the streets, and the neighborhoods. All of it began to feel familiar, I had found a place for myself in a world that was once foreign to me.
I still had people I cared for back home. They would call, text, FaceTime, some even sent letters. Yet it’s not the same as having them sit in the same room with you. I wanted to focus on the people and the time I had in this beautiful place. I didn’t want to be distracted by home, but I couldn’t deny my connection to it.
Life keeps moving forward, no matter where you are. In finding my place, I began to pick up habits. I spoke differently, acted differently. They were subtle changes, that over time added up. I had experienced things that the people at home would never be able to know. I can tell my stories, but to most people my stories are not grounded in reality. My life on a far away island is only a fairy tale.
I could feel these two different identities, waging a war inside me. A past Sara, and the new Sara. I won’t say one was better than the other, but I did want to fall back into the familiar, the comfortable. I made the mistake of believing I could carry on the life I had back at home, unchanged.
Going into this, I knew the arrangement was temporary. I’ve discovered, a place is not temporary, the people you meet are not temporary. Physically leaving a place doesn’t mean you are gone. The impact you have continues to live on. I’ve learned that the two Sara’s can live together, happily, by honoring both sides. The girl who grew up in Wyoming country is the same girl who finds herself returning to a Caribbean island.
While I was in St. Thomas, I took a number of panorama pictures. From the high hilltops around the island, you could see for miles. The clear blue Caribbean waters seem to go on forever. From up above you can see the beaches, the boats, the houses that dot the hillside. With each new viewpoint, I gained a new perspective on the island. Yet it will always be the same island. The discovery of what it holds, that is an endless pursuit.
I think it’s okay if you don’t always recognize yourself in old pictures, it just means time has passed and things have changed. You’ve found a different perspective from which to see yourself. Having the chance to learn more about myself, within a new environment and culture, is something I will be forever thankful for. I will always in some sense, be the same Sara. The discovery of what I hold, that is an endless pursuit.