Labels

To become who you are, you first need to examine how you make sense of yourself through language—namely, through identifying language like labels.

We’ve been taught to use labels as a convenient way of organizing information, assessing threats, and navigating the world at a break-neck pace. Labels are like the McDonald’s Dollar Menu of Language: they’ll do in a pinch because they’re easily accessible and ubiquitous, but they’re not necessarily meant to sustain us.

They are necessarily incomplete descriptions that make us palatable or included.
They are terse edicts that prescribe and sharpen our fullness.
They are lines in the sand that say “This is mine,” and “This will never be yours.”
They compartmentalize our entirety into excerpts without context and cut us off at the knees.
And we keep collecting them, sometimes without realizing it.

The way others make sense of and identify us suddenly becomes our responsibility to carry. What others expect of us or threaten of us becomes another precaution taken or another compartment to add.

To be fair to labels as identifiers: they can be used to find and create communities. You hear those syllables that form your label of choice from across a room and think, “There they are! That’s where I belong.”

And sometimes those labels are pointed at your throat: they, and you, are a threat.

The words you use to talk about who you are should be 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖, not 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞. All you are can’t possibly be narrowed: you are infinite.

If you want to learn more about labels and becoming a new version of you, clickTo become who you are, you first need to examine how you make sense of yourself through language—namely, through identifying language like labels.

We’ve been taught to use labels as a

convenient way of organizing information, assessing threats, and navigating the world at a break-neck pace. Labels are like the McDonald’s Dollar Menu of Language: they’ll do in a pinch because they’re easily accessible and ubiquitous, but they’re not necessarily meant to sustain us. They are necessarily incomplete descriptions that make us palatable or included. They are terse edicts that prescribe and sharpen our fullness. They are lines in the sand that say “This is mine,” and “This will never be yours.” They compartmentalize our entirety into excerpts without context and cut us off at the knees. And we keep collecting them, sometimes without realizing it.

The way others make sense of and identify us suddenly becomes our

responsibility to carry.

What others expect of us or threaten of

us becomes another precaution taken or another compartment to add.

To be fair to labels as identifiers: they can be used to find and create communities. You hear those syllables that form your label of choice from across a room and think, “There they are! That’s where I belong.”

And sometimes those labels are pointed at your throat: they, and you, are a threat.


The words you use to talk about who you are should be 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖, not 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞. All you are can’t possibly be narrowed: you are infinite.


If you want to learn more about labels and becoming a new version of you, click this link in my bio and VOTE for my pitch for Alt Summit 2020! and VOTE for my pitch for Alt Summit 2020!

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Kelly CutchinComment