Waldo: A Personal Reflection Of Personal Identity

As a teenager, defiance and discovery are accustomed. At times, it seems as if the teenage years are the most difficult; being treated like children but being expected to act like adults. Many teens, however, are unable to bare this burden, and turn to substandard means of coping with their issues, such as alcohol or drugs. Nonetheless, beneath this seemingly disordered chaos of anxiety, all teenagers are searching for one thing; their individuality. Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing? This is where Waldo comes in.
I used to think of Waldo as a funny-looking guy in stripes who’d help me pass the time on long car rides. But now, Waldo is so much more; he is me. Waldo is me, searching for myself amongst the billions of people in this world, hiding in the crowd to escape my fears of self-identity. He is a reflection of human longing and desire, particularly mine. As I scour the pages of my “Where’s Waldo?” book, I realize it is more difficult than I thought to find the peculiar character.

My identity seems to be hidden even better than the infamous Waldo, himself; Waldo stands out in his red-and-white striped shirt, black-rimmed glasses, and red hat.

My identity, however, has no distinguishing characteristics. I could be face-to-face with it in a crowd of people and find Waldo before I find myself. But what I have yet to realize is that Waldo is me, and maybe I have already found him.
Waldo is me because he, too, is searching for himself in a crowd full of people, longing to be found by someone. Maybe all he really wants is to find himself. Or maybe he doesn’t want to be found at all. I can relate to Waldo; sometimes what I want than anything I for someone to take their pen on my page and say to me “There! There you are! I’ve been searching for you forever!” Other times I, like Waldo, hide amongst the strange faces and conceal

myself