I don’t know when I started worrying that I couldn’t define myself succinctly. I suppose I thought I’d find myself in a room where people wouldn’t let me out until I could introduce myself. I’d sit and think and be at a loss for words, unable to answer the question. How do you sum up all the complexity of a human being in a medium as limited as words? 

I don’t think I even recognized my first attempt to define myself as such. This was Middle School Sam. He wore shorts and hoodies with a kangaroo pocket. His self worth was tied to his grades, and he always had to have the correct answer. In the car on a roadtrip, he made a list of all the books and movies and television he’d consumed that he liked. Doctor Who and Warehouse 13 and Star Wars and Ranger’s Apprentice and Percy Jackson and dozens more. He gave up when the list filled a whole sheet of notebook paper, but continued defining himself primarily as a fan of things.

A couple years later, my style changed. This Sam wore jeans and flannel over t-shirts enough that his friends started making fun of him for it. He desperately wanted to be out, but was terrified of the changes that would bring. When he made his first blog, he threw a bunch of adjectives and nouns in the bio, as though cramming enough in would describe the totality of a person. Christian. Male. White. Cisgender. Gay (NEVER Queer). Teenager. Nerd. None of these were false, but even put together they only describe the shell of a person. 

Less than a year into college, I got annoyed with the question “what are you studying?” It rarely seemed like the person asking the question cared. When I graduated, the question was replaced with another: “What do you do?” I do a lot of things. I play Pokémon GO. I have a podcast. I write for the post calvin. Yet “what do you do?” only ever seems to mean “What do you do [for work]”? And though I spend a lot of my time at my job and I enjoy it, I don’t want it to be the first or only thing people know about me.

I’ve changed again. Months ago, a friend from out of town visited. After his trip he posted the selfie he took of the two of us, and my first thought upon seeing the picture was “that person has the same clothes as me.” I didn’t recognize myself. I’ve grown a beard and gotten new glasses in the last six months. I’ve realized a person is not a thing you can draw a box around with words. They will always do something you hadn’t accounted for. Especially yourself.

That’s not to say my toolset hasn’t expanded with some new insight into an old story. 

 And God said unto Moses, I Am That I Am: and he said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I Am hath sent me unto you. Exodus 3:14 (King James Version)

I’ve only ever heard God’s response to Moses translated “I Am what I Am.” But biblical Hebrew doesn’t differentiate between tenses; There are so many more translations of those three words. אֶהְיֶה אֲשֶׁר אֶהְיֶה‎. Ehyah Asher Ehyah. I am what I create. I am what I become. I am the only me there has ever been. I am the only me there will ever be. I will be what I will be. The meanings explode outwards, impossible to gather up, like trying to completely describe a person.

I don’t try to define myself anymore. It’s an impossible task. The labels from my first blog still apply, though I’m much more at home with “queer” these days. I’m not who I used to be, but I love him. I’m excited to be in my thirties and love the me I am now. I watch Taskmaster with my parents. I can be a bit full of myself. I like ham and pineapple on pizza. I let people call me crazy for the choices that I make. I’m in bed by ten most nights. I like trying new things because I’m still figuring out myself. If you want to know me, you have to be in the room with me. We can figure it out together.

Sam Tuit

Sam Tuit graduated from Calvin in 2021 with a degree in film and media. He lives in Grand Rapids and works as an event coordinator. In his free time, he loves trying new things, cooking for others, and having nuanced conversations about the stories our society is telling.