Accounts from three Seasiders on change, belonging and the evolution of their sense of self
Three BYUH students said their experiences with change, relationships and identity challenged the idea that the self is something people lose.
Yna Mae Belches, Moeroa Maea-Aerenga and Colby Silva described the self not as something to be found but as something they encounter repeatedly as they moved through different seasons of life and different versions of themselves. Across their stories, they pointed to different facets of change: leaving, evolving and outgrowing.
When the self returns to its center
For Yna Mae Belches, a junior majoring in intercultural peacebuilding from the Philippines, the understanding of identity as something that does not disappear began in a moment when everything felt unfamiliar.
On an evening she later described as a turning point, she said she found herself in a situation that prompted her to think: “This is not me.”
Growing up as the eldest of four siblings, Belches said she saw herself through the lens of outward expectations about who she should be, how she should act and the path she was expected to follow. When she left the Philippines for Hawaii, she said these expectations shifted. “Through the people I met, through exposing myself to different communities and different perspectives, I learned there’s a part of me that wants freedom,” she said.
Belches said she found herself surrounded by new people, a new community and new horizons. For the first time, she said she allowed herself to explore what existed beyond them.
This freedom, however, came with tension, Belches recounted. In her attempt to belong to spaces not entirely her own, she said she found herself adjusting—changing to fit the mold of expectations her newfound people have of her.
“I was lost,” she said, “but lost in a sense that I wasn’t the kind of person I knew myself to be anymore.”
Belches said that recognizing the growing distance between who she was and who others seemed to have expected of her helped her take a step back. She recalled returning to a lifestyle that felt more aligned with who she was.
"You learn different things about yourself when you expose yourself to cultures outside of yours. Change is constant and people change," she explained.
Even as she changed, Belches said her sense of identity remained connected to her earlier versions.
I’ll still name myself Yna because I wouldn’t be who I am right now if I didn’t meet my previous versions.
When the self expands its horizons
Moeroa Maea-Aerenga, a freshman from New Zealand studying anthropology and cultural sustainability, said her experience was less about returning and more about becoming. At 18, Maea-Aerenga said she imagined a future shaped by her desire to outwardly express her cultural identity. She recounted that becoming a performer at the Polynesian Cultural Center (PCC) and living alongside her best friend was what first drew her to BYUH.
Years later, she described arriving at the university as a changed person—someone whose life had shifted in ways she could not have anticipated. Now a mother, she expressed that her sense of purpose expanded beyond herself.
The change, she described, is not something seen in appearance but in priorities. “My priorities were different from when I was 18, and that’s how I knew there had been change, or that I discovered part of me,” she explained. “The things that were important to me and the things that made me happy were different.”
She added that those earlier priorities were not wrong; they just belonged to a different version of herself. “I am not saying that what I prioritized back then wasn’t important,” she said. “It’s just that, in that particular version of me, those were the things I deemed important.”
She explained that describing that change as a loss felt reductive. Instead, she said she viewed it as a part of growth rather than something that took her away from who she was.
A lot of the time when people refer to losing themselves, what they really mean is losing a part of themselves that made them happy and comfortable with their own body.
That kind of subtraction, she explained, can feel like being lost. Self-discovery for Maea-Aerenga is more like a journey of encountering all these different experiences that actually make us feel good. She said change did not erase who she was. Instead, she explained that the eighteen-year-old version of herself remained, layered with the accumulation of experience, time and relationships.
“Our journey to becoming has a lot to do with finding a place in our lives where we’re happy with what we’re doing, happy with the people surrounding us, and happy with the things we’re learning,” she said.
When the self outgrows its place
Colby Silva, a junior business management major from Hawaii, said identity is less about becoming someone new than it is about recognizing when you no longer fit the environment you once did. He said he thinks of change as shape-sorting toys we played with as kids. Like shapes pressed into a toy box (stars, circles, squares), he said people are meant for specific openings.
We all try to find the place where we belong. Sometimes other people try to force us into the wrong opening, and sometimes we force ourselves into the wrong one. That’s where the inner conflict begins.
So, when people say they have “lost” themselves, Silva said he does not quite agree. “It’s not that I’ve lost myself,” he said. “It’s more that the person I see in the mirror no longer fits into the environment I used to belong in.”
Looking back, Silva said he recognizes how his sense of self was shaped by the responsibilities he took early on as the eldest sibling. He describes himself as what people now call a “parentified child”—someone who took on parental roles at a young age. Years later, he said that identity shifted to a different weight.
“The role I used to fill no longer needs filling,” he said. He described this absence as disorienting. “Now I’m trying to figure out where I belong and what role I’m supposed to play.” Labels, he noted, are often dismissed, but he said they provided him with a sense of comfort, structure and a sense of accountability.
While studying in South Korea, Silva recalled sitting alone in a cafe with his plate of crepe cake. He described the day as unremarkable, and the setting was not particularly significant. But at that moment, he said something shifted. “I realized I was comfortable existing by myself. It made me realize that growth isn’t scary,” he said.
Growth, for Silva, is not determined by a fixed benchmark, but an ongoing state. He said some parts of his life feel fully formed while others remain in progress. “Sometimes you don’t realize how far you’ve walked,” he added, “until you turn around and look back.”