From Edie: Discover why identity is the foundation of powerful storytelling. Learn how true vs. false identity shapes character development, drives conflict, and creates meaningful character arcs that resonate with readers.
Why Identity Is the Key to Character Development: How True vs. False Identity Shapes Every Story
by Zena Dell Lowe @ZenaDellLowe
There’s a lot of talk these days about identity. People are constantly saying things like, “I identify as….” But what does that actually mean? What defines a person’s identity? And more importantly for storytellers—why does identity matter so much in story?
Most character problems are actually identity problems. If you don’t understand identity, you won’t understand character arc. Plot exists to apply pressure until the truth of who a character is can no longer stay hidden.
1. The Core of Identity: Essence (Who the Character Really Is)
At its deepest level, identity is about essence—who a person really is deep down, whether they acknowledge it or not. This part of identity is stable and objectively true. It’s not something that’s negotiated or invented. It simply is. And therefore, it’s something that’s discovered.
From a philosophical standpoint, this refers to a person’s continuity of being—you are who you are, at all times, regardless of circumstances. From a Christian standpoint, it means we are created in the image of God. Our value and dignity are intrinsic, not assigned by society or earned through performance.
In story, this is the truth the narrative is built around. Because True identity is uncovered, not invented. The most enduring stories operate this way.
For example, Harry Potter is “the boy who lived.” He didn’t choose that identity. He didn’t declare it. He discovered it—and the story unfolds as he gradually accepts the weight and responsibility that come with it.
This is why strong stories feel inevitable. They assume there is something true about a character that exists before the character fully understands it. The character isn’t becoming someone new. They’re becoming who they already are at their core. And the plot exists to reveal that truth.
2. Identity Is Revealed and Tested in Relationship
Identity doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It is clarified, challenged, and tested in relationship.
We all live out relational identities. For example, I’m a daughter, a friend, a teacher, a Montanan, a dog mom, and more. These roles don’t define my essence, but they do shape how I understand myself. Relationships give context. Without them, we struggle even to form the concept of self.
This is why children who grow up without healthy attachment often struggle so much. Families and society can give us false narratives that reinforce or distort who we are.
In story, other characters exist for this reason. They challenge or reinforce the lie the protagonist believes about himself. Identity is clarified in relationship—it is not formed in isolation.
In The Lion King, Simba tries to deny his identity after tragedy. He defines himself by guilt and shame. But it’s through relationship—through Rafiki, and the memory of Mufasa—that he’s confronted with the truth: “Remember who you are.”
That line isn’t just sentimental. It’s the thematic spine of the story. Simba’s community calls him back to his rightful place, and the plot only resolves once he accepts that identity and acts accordingly.
3. The Psychological Layer: Declared Identity (Who the Character Thinks They Are)
This is where most stories begin. The psychological layer of identity is the character’s self-concept—the narrative they tell themselves about who they are. This includes beliefs, values, wounds, fears, memories, and desires.
This is where “I identify as…” lives.
And this layer is fluid. It can be wrong. It can be incomplete. And it can be deeply distorted.
In Mad Men, Don Draper declares a false identity and builds his entire life around it. The tension of the show comes from the collision between his performed self and his true self. The more pressure the plot applies on Don, the harder it becomes for him to maintain the lie.
And this is the crucial point for writers to understand: Story is what happens when a character’s declared identity collides with their true identity under pressure.
A character can claim to be any way he likes. The question is: is it true? A story’s job is to systematically strip away denial until the character sees themselves clearly. The arc is complete when declared identity collides with reality, and the character can no longer pretend.
4. The Cultural Layer: Identity as Expression
Contemporary culture increasingly treats identity as self-expression rather than discovery. “I identify as X” often means, “I want you to recognize me as this.”
That can feel empowering. But dramatically, it’s unstable.
When identity becomes purely a negotiation between personal declaration and social affirmation, story loses its grounding. Characters no longer discover truth; they merely assert preference. Right and wrong no longer exist. Therefore, conflict turns ideological instead of moral. And when conflict becomes purely ideological, stakes begin to collapse—because nothing real resists the character, and resistance is what creates drama.
Stories built on endlessly malleable identity often struggle because nothing pushes back. The character is never forced to confront something true about themselves. They simply perform a version of themselves and ask the world to validate it.
5. The Central Conflict: Declared vs. Discovered Identity
This is where identity becomes the engine of story.
- Declared identity says: “I identify as ___, therefore I am.”
- Discovered identity says: “I am ___, therefore I must live accordingly.”
Every meaningful character arc is built on the tension between those two statements.
The character begins with a false or incomplete understanding of who they are. The plot applies pressure. Relationships challenge the lie. Reality resists. And eventually, the character must either:
- Align their life with the truth of their identity or
- Refuse it—and pay the price
This is why identity is never abstract in good storytelling. It determines the choices a character makes under pressure. And choices are story.
Without a clear understanding of identity, writers often substitute traits, trauma, or ideology. The result is a character who feels performative instead of real—preachy instead of compelling.
When identity is rooted in something true, story regains its power. Conflict has teeth. Transformation feels earned. Meaning emerges organically. Identity stops being a costume party—and becomes a calling.
Why This Matters for Writers
Every story, at its core, is an identity crisis.
Plot exists to apply pressure to a character until the truth of who they are can no longer remain hidden. A character’s external goal reveals what they want. But their internal struggle—the thing that gives the story weight—is always about identity: Who am I really, and How should I live in light of that truth?
To understand how identity functions in story, we have to understand what identity actually is. Because the moment a character can no longer pretend—when who they claim to be collides with who they really are—that’s when the story finally reveals what it was about all along.
TWEETABLE
To find out more about Zena or her current courses and projects, check out her websites at WWW.MISSIONRANCHFILMS.COM and WWW.THESTORYTELLERSMISSION.COM
No comments:
Post a Comment