When a writer describes a character, real or imagined, they must make a series of choices. Who is this person? Are they extroverted? Introverted? What do they look like?

In our own lives, we are the writers. We're each assigned the task of creating a character. There is no due date, no editor, and no rough draft. We are the protagonist in our own respective lives. Unfortunately, not all of us have a degree in creative writing. Yes. Billions of us are, for lack of a better word, screwed. In a world so vast and unstable, how do we make our stories worth listening to?

I spent 18 years creating a character. Every decision added another layer of depth to my personality. Some choices felt insignificant, but over time, small changes produced large results. By my senior year of high school, I had a strong sense of who I was and what I wanted. In all of my lessons and hours spent in class, one theme stood above the rest; identity. According to my teachers, we needed to understand who we were before we could enter the so-called "real world." This never scared me. I could stand up with confidence and proudly boast about the many aspects of my identity. I was a writer. I was an actress. I was everything I had worked so hard to create.

Until I wasn't.

College stripped me of my friends, family, and the identity I once held onto. I was alone, 1000 miles away from my small town and everything that made me, me. While my ideals and goals hadn't changed, I was still overwhelmed. In this new environment, I was a part of a student body larger than 35,000. What did I matter? Who was I? I could dress, talk, or act like an entirely new person. No one cared about my past and I had no reputation to uphold. These thoughts troubled me deeply until I came to an important revelation.

Life is a constant cycle of change. In four years I will graduate college, and again, leave behind an identity I once knew. The people who struggle with this concept are trying to imitate the person they once were. Do not fight change. We'll all inevitably lose parts of our former selves, but the core aspects of our being will withstand any ending and any beginning. Like the great characters in literature, we are not meant to be static.