Breaking the Mold: Hidden Identity Traps That Quietly Shape (and Limit) Us - 2

Part 2 : The Traps of Identity

Welcome back !

Having explored two identity traps in the previous article—internalizing imposed labels and clinging to outdated notions of consistency—there are still more subtle forces shaping the way we see ourselves. In the continuation of this reflection, I delve into three additional traps that often go unnoticed, yet deeply influence our sense of identity and potential.

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3. The Instrumentalization of Identity

It happens to me often that people expect me to defend a point of view—not because it’s fair or reasonable, but simply because I share certain characteristics with the person involved. I’m asked, for example, to side with a Black man over a white man, or a colleague over a supervisor, just because I’m closer to the first in terms of background, language, or skin color.

You often hear things like:
“The suffering of one Black person is the suffering of all Black people,”
“A woman’s pain is the pain of all women,”
“The burden of one man is the burden of all men,”
“An injustice against one poor person is an injustice against all poor people.”

And, conversely, sometimes people imply that the wrongdoing of one person should spill over onto everyone who resembles them.

I’m not against solidarity. Quite the opposite. I believe in solidarity. I reach out, I stand up for those who need help. Sometimes, I even accept certain mistakes—when they’re not too serious—just to ease tensions or protect a relationship. But I never do it automatically, and never just because someone looks like me. I don’t defend a man simply because he’s Black—I defend him if his cause is just. I don’t condemn someone based on their origin, religion, or status—I judge based on their actions.

And yet, in the world around us, in our societies, it still happens far too often that we are judged, praised, or punished not for what we do, but for the label we wear. Once again, the uniform overshadows the individual. It creates a world where alliances are no longer built on truth or justice, but on shared—or assumed—identity.

I understand the intention behind this expectation: it’s the desire to form bonds, to protect each other, to not stand alone in the face of injustice. But I believe it’s possible—and even necessary—to stay true to one’s integrity while being in solidarity. We can belong to a team without betraying our conscience. We can stand for a cause without abandoning our sense of what is right.
That, at least, is the choice I’ve made—and continue to make.

4. The Conflict of Multiple Identities

As we grow up, we’re taught a set of values—family values, cultural values, sometimes national values—that take root deep within us, like silent pillars in the structure of our inner world. These principles become, consciously or not, points of reference: they tell us what to honor, what to avoid, what to desire, to love, to respect.

For some, these reference points remain perfectly aligned with the direction their life takes. They grow up, flourish in an environment that reflects them, embrace the lessons passed down to them with gratitude, and find in that continuity a genuine happiness. And that’s admirable. After all, isn’t that one of the noblest goals in life—to live in harmony with what we’ve been given?

But for others—for me, for example—things are a little more complex. By exploring the world—its possibilities, its trials—and facing situations that uproot us or expose us to unfamiliar realities, we begin to seek out our own truth, our own coherence. And that quest often leads us to painful crossroads. Between the values of childhood and the convictions of adulthood. Between the expectations of those who shaped us and the inner drive of the person we are becoming.

We then find ourselves torn between two worlds that no longer speak the same language: the world of our origins, and the world of our future.
So what do we do in those moments?

As for me, I’ve learned not to run from conflict. I make an effort to listen to myself—to question what I feel, what I want, what I’m willing to carry. I try to carve out a path that feels like mine, a trail where these contradictory worlds could coexist without cancelling each other out. And sometimes, when no reconciliation is possible, I choose. Not lightly, nor in rejection, but with the awareness that every choice carries weight—and that this, too, is what becoming oneself means: accepting the consequences of one’s decisions, moving forward despite the inner pulls, and carrying within—with courage—the echo of all the identities we’ve passed through.

5. The Need for Validation from the Group

We all seek approval. Sometimes from one person, sometimes from an entire group. To be seen, accepted, validated—this gives us the feeling of truly existing, as if, through someone else’s gaze, our life finally gains meaning. This need isn’t new. It’s ancient, instinctive, almost primal. You see it in the child trying to catch a parent’s attention, in the adult hoping their boss will notice their work and offer a word of praise, in the partner who goes to great lengths to earn a smile or a tender gesture.

And the desire to be accepted doesn’t stop there. It sometimes drives us to disguise ourselves—to shape our appearance, our language, our passions to fit the norms of a group, a community, an environment. We mute our tastes, we hide what makes us unique for fear of being seen as odd, out of place, or socially unfit. For many, being called “weird” is a wound far deeper than it seems—especially when our identity is still fragile, still seeking roots.

And so, little by little, we start wearing borrowed identities. We become copies, reflections, compromises. And in that masquerade, something precious is lost: ourselves. The true “me”—the one who seeks not to please but to be, the one who doesn’t conform but expresses—slowly drifts away.

This need for validation acts like a silent poison in our society. It eats away at our schools, our universities, our workplaces, our romantic relationships, our spiritual circles, even our families. And the result is often the same: a feeling of inner emptiness. We may smile outwardly, receive compliments, be surrounded by people… but deep down, we feel invisible to ourselves.

And yet, one truth remains—simple but essential:
we can only be truly happy by being truly ourselves.

As long as that inner voice isn’t heard, as long as we live to satisfy others while betraying our own truth, a void will remain.

But the day we finally dare to choose ourselves—despite the stares, despite the judgment—something is reborn. It’s not arrogance—it’s loyalty. To oneself.
And it’s the beginning of real peace.

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Core Message:

We often think identity is something we choose—but more often, it's shaped for us by our environment, our upbringing, and our need for belonging. This text uncovers three subtle yet powerful identity traps: being used as a symbol for others' causes, navigating the tension between who we were and who we are becoming, and the need for external validation that slowly erodes authenticity.

True freedom begins when we stop living by others’ expectations and start reclaiming the right to define ourselves, for ourselves.

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If something here resonated, here are a few questions to carry with you:

• When was the last time you supported or rejected something simply because of the group you belong to—without truly checking if you believed in it?

• Are there values you grew up with that no longer feel aligned with who you are today? What would it mean to let them go or redefine them?

• In what areas of my life do you still seek validation more than authenticity—and what part of me is being silenced in the process?

If you feel like sharing, leave a comment or send me a DM. I’ll be glad to listen and reply.

See you next week for the next shape of this journey.

Warmly,
The Mirror Room – First Edition