In a world undergoing deep and constant change, it’s more important than ever to ask ourselves a question that seems simple on the surface but is dizzying in its depth: What is identity?
For a long time, we believed—or were made to believe—that identity was something fixed. Something encoded in our blood, like a genetic map, a biological barcode. A kind of innate, unchangeable truth that we only had to uncover in order to truly know who we are.
But that vision, inherited from a rigid, performance-driven world, is crumbling. It no longer holds. And that’s not bad news—quite the opposite.
Dismantling Old Definitions
Reducing identity to genes, biological heritage, or ethnic origin is not just misguided—it’s dangerous. History has shown us where that kind of thinking can lead. Most notably, in the darkest ideologies of the 20th century, which glorified blood, race, and “purity” as the ultimate markers of belonging. That’s a closed, frozen, obsessive vision of identity.
But today, we live in a world of interactions, movements, and transformation. A systemic world, built on relationships, cultural exchanges, and mutual discoveries. In this context, our idea of identity must evolve too.
A Living Definition: Identity = Self + Territory
Instead of seeing identity as a fixed inheritance, we need to understand it as a living mixture. A constant dialogue between:
- Who we are biologically—our genetic makeup, our constitution, our body, our sensations…
- And the territory we move through, in the broadest sense: the physical place, of course, but also the social fabric, the people we meet, the languages we speak, the landscapes we cross, the cultures we absorb.
This mixture is not a static equation. It’s an evolving process. A dynamic. Maybe it’s 50/50. Maybe 60/40, or 70/30 depending on the moment. The numbers don’t really matter. What matters is this: identity is built in relation.
Changing Territory Means Changing Identity
Let’s take a concrete example. Imagine someone who lives in Singapore for a year. Or two years in Thailand. Or even just a few months in Belgium. The location doesn’t really matter.
What’s certain is: they won’t come back the same.
They’ll have seen different ways of living, eaten different foods, heard different languages, exchanged glances with people who see the world differently. They will have adapted, understood, translated, reevaluated what they once thought was “normal.”
And this transformation isn’t superficial. It’s not just a travel anecdote. It’s an initiatory journey. In other words, an experience that transforms you deeply. An experience that reshapes identity.
You come back with a new perspective on yourself, on others, on your own country. You integrate new elements into your being. And sometimes, you even let go of what you once thought was an unshakable part of yourself.
Identity Isn’t Lost—It’s Enriched
Some fear this process of transformation. They see it as a dilution, a loss. But it’s the opposite.
Identity, when it comes into contact with otherness, is enriched. It becomes more complex, more nuanced, more profound.
It gains depth, subtlety, and resonance. It stops being a checkbox and becomes a story, a movement, a trajectory.
And that’s the real beauty of our time: this permanent hybridity. The ability to reinvent ourselves again and again—without betraying who we’ve been.
The Performance-Driven World Doesn’t Know How to Handle This
The issue is, our society—or at least the one we’re leaving behind—was built on principles of performance, optimization, and standardization.
In that world, you had to fit the mold. Have a clear, stable identity. Be someone “well-defined.”
But that world is cracking. It can’t cope with ambiguity, fluidity, doubt, or transformation.
It excludes anyone who doesn’t fit its boxes: young people searching for meaning, racialized individuals, expats, migrants, non-binary people, artists, dreamers, nomads, mixed-race individuals, hybrids, those in-between.
And yet, it’s exactly these people who are living what a vibrant identity means—an identity that’s constantly in motion.
A Generation Searching for Meaning
Today, many young people are in crisis—crises of meaning, eco-anxiety, depression. Many feel, deep down, that something doesn’t work anymore. That yesterday’s promises no longer hold.
And maybe it’s because we sold them too narrow a version of identity. “Be yourself,” they were told. But no one explained who that “self” was, or how it’s built.
So, in the face of all this vagueness, many are searching elsewhere—in travel, in art, in alternative communities, in environmental causes, in social struggles. In the margins. In the frictions. In the crossings.
And they’re right to. Because that’s where it’s happening. That’s where identity is formed: in plurality, in experimentation, in embraced uncertainty.
Toward an Ecology of Identity
In a world in transition, we need a new kind of identity ecology. One that recognizes:
- That we are made of multiple affiliations,
- That our paths are mobile, evolving, and imperfect,
- That identity is dynamic, never fixed,
- That transformation is a strength, not a betrayal.
An ecology of identity is a way to welcome complexity instead of trying to flatten it. To stop searching for a singular essence and start weaving connection.
Living Identity as a Journey
Identity is not a state. It’s a journey. A path shaped by encounters, ruptures, adaptations, and discoveries.
And if this rigid, binary, performance-obsessed world is collapsing—then maybe that’s an opportunity.
The end of one world is also the beginning of another.
A world where we can be many things at once. Where we can change. Where we can learn. Where we can become.
A world where identity is no longer a cage, but an adventure.