A memory that I have that reflects self identity is when I was younger and was hanging out with the wrong crowd, but I knew all of them were having troubles at home beyond what I could comprehend. One night, they were smoking and trying to steal a car but that was not something I wanted to do so I walked home alone as they were calling me names and saying how I wasn't tough enough for "the streets". I realized even though being a rebel was the "it" thing in the area a was living in, doesn't mean I have to be one no matter how much pressure others put on me to be something i'm not.