[Chapter I] Coping With (Borderline) Personality Disorder: How Pop Culture Impacts My Sense Of Self

When you change so fast that there's no time to figure out who you are, pop culture often serves as a coping mechanism.

Image generated with AI by Savannah Taider

This essay is anchored in psychological, sociological, and cultural studies related to the concept of identity and borderline personality disorder (BPD). By analyzing and interpreting my personal experience of both phenomena through a reflective and comprehensive approach, I wish to contribute to the knowledge available from a fresh and modern perspective, facilitating a mainstream understanding of both subjects. The term “pop culture” in the following study encompasses themes such as mass media, storytelling, and fandom. 

Allow me to *not* introduce myself. 

At my big age, one of the questions I fear being asked the most is “Who are you?” I no longer know how to provide those curious to know with a coherent, faithful, or socially acceptable answer. Mainly because the older I grow, the more confusing it gets for me to depict an accurate picture of who I am. 

One must-known fact about me is: I’m a lot. I’m a lot of everything and nothing, at the same time. And I’m incapable of settling on a specific side. At any given moment, I can be found abruptly moving from one extreme of the identity spectrum to another, instantly changing personas like one would change clothes. To cross paths with me is to cross paths with a woman whose multifaceted personality is more often switching from one facet to another rather than evolving, making her a natural shapeshifter capable of adapting to any crowd. Yet, it doesn’t feel politically correct to tell people that who I am depends on contexts or circumstances. That they shouldn’t expect anybody from me for I have no idea who to expect from myself either, despite some of my traits remaining fixed.

The truth is I’ve been diagnosed with a personality disorder implying strong borderline tendencies. However, confiding such a private matter about myself so openly to the outer world feels like applying too much pressure. And by that, I mean that although there’s no denying that society has enthusiastically been endorsing and encouraging collective conversations around mental health in general, I find that the topic of personality disorder is still too taboo, too stigmatized to be openly discussed. Which is unfortunate, in my opinion, considering that at this point in my life, introducing myself as a woman with BPD would give away all the clues on how to understand and appreciate me the way I need to be.

But wouldn’t it be too self-reductive, too conditioning, or perhaps even too excusable to make a curable personality disorder my entire identity?

Identity dynamics : change vs. evolution

Even if the concept of identity shouldn’t be thought of as a constant phenomenon but rather as an ongoing construction process (meaning that individuals are in fact supposed to change), as human beings, both our personal or social experience and perception of such a dynamic can lead to a either positive or negative outcome. Hence why, despite their similarities, nuancing the concepts of evolution and change becomes of particular importance in the understanding of identity development.

Evolution implies a natural, gradual process of growth that is often perceived as positive as it signifies increased self-understanding. It suggests a process of growth, maturing, and integrating new aspects into one's sense of self over time, maintaining continuity with past identities. In contrast, change can be abrupt and varied, often involving self-discontinuity along with an unquenchable need to feel validated and reaffirmed, as an individual might feel they have completely abandoned a former identity and adopted a new one. The latter can be perceived more neutrally or negatively, depending on the context and individual experience.¹

As a teen and young adult, I used to embrace this side of me. I thoroughly enjoyed my personal search for identity, which felt like continuous experienced highs to me. It was a thrilling journey of self-discovery trying new things, plotting for the future, meeting new people, and feeling free to choose the woman I wanted to incarnate, whoever she was. I was in a phase of self-construction. A phase of evolution. Today, however, at nearly 30 years old, I no longer feel the excitement. Instead, I feel lost. The journey no longer resembles self-construction. Rather, it resembles self-destruction.

The journey no longer resembles self-construction. Rather, it resembles self-destruction.

What once felt like true freedom has now turned into a wrecking lack of stability, connection, and belonging. Which, for the record, are fundamental needs for human beings. I feel trapped in motion, caught in constant identity shifts, seemingly without ever achieving a fulfilling sense of self. A fulfilling sense of self-continuity. Ironically, for me change appears to be the only thing that never alters. Except I don’t find it amusing. Dealing with this inner turmoil has been a nightmare. A major source of confusion, stress, anxiety, anger outbursts, exhaustion... For me, but for my entourage as well. Not only is my psychological stability impacted, but so is my social, and most importantly, my professional functioning.²

Image generated with AI by Savannah Taider

On resisting change through pop culture : finding self-continuity in media and storytelling

When I decided to go back to college and pursue a master’s degree in science communication—I was 27 at the time—my only motive was to obtain a degree that would testify to my theoretical and practical knowledge of the field, and incite recruiters to finally consider me a legitimate candidate to offer a steady job to in the media or entertainment industry. What I had not anticipated, however, was how my academic journey would also shed light on and teach me about the state of my mental health. Both through the social interactions that I had and the subjects that I was taught in class. It’s actually my first year in university that incited me to get diagnosed.

It’s actually my first year in university that incited me to get diagnosed.

During my program, I became closely acquainted with the concept of identity. Under a sociological lens at first ; then a cultural lens ; and ultimately, under a psychological lens. I’ve learned about the roots of identity construction, the different kinds of identity that exist, and the myriad of factors—including societal and cultural expectations, perceptions, and identifications—influencing this ongoing process. As my academic researches delved deeper into the subject, I began to draw parallels between the scientific literature and my own lived experiences, recognizing patterns and behaviors that I previously perceived inexplicable. Especially while observing identity through cultural and psychological lenses, which have helped me understand the impactful role that media and pop culture have been and are still playing in the formation and the continuity of my own self.

I’ve long turned to media and pop culture as a source of comfort and self-reflection. When I say media and pop culture, understand e.g.: anything related to Disney movies, characters, and theme parks; TV show characters and environments; and social media platforms such as blogs and Instagram. I never truly understood why if I’m being honest. But it turns out the reason is more evident than I would’ve expected it to be.

As a millennial, I happen to be born in a generation where individuals are characterized to have a unique connection with media and pop culture. We grew up during a time of rapid technological advancement and cultural shifts which, ultimately, have redefined how we experience self-discovery, self-expression, and how we achieve a sense of community. With constant access to television, video games, and later, the Internet during our formative years, my fellow millennials and I were exposed to a vast array of media content that has shaped the ways in which we view the world and our identities through relatable characters and narratives, making pop culture a significant aspect of our daily lives.

In that respect, pop culture can also serve as a coping mechanism for individuals navigating an everchanging world. Particularly for individuals with BPD. Indeed, the comfort and familiarity offered by pop culture often tap into a powerful emotional force, that of nostalgia. As millennials, we frequently find ourselves drawn to the media of our youth, revisiting TV shows, movies, and video games that defined our early years. However, this nostalgic pull is more than just a longing for the past; it’s also a way (perhaps unconscious to some) of grounding ourselves and finding solace in a world that often feels overwhelming and unpredictable. In this sense, nostalgia acts as a psychological anchor, providing stability in times of uncertainty.

Therefore, for someone with borderline personality traits like me, to whom emotional turbulence and identity struggles are common, nostalgia can be especially soothing. Whenever I revisit my favorite TV show (e.g. Jane The Virgin) or Disney movies (e.g. Lilo & Stitch, Tarzan, Moana…), it triggers a flood of sensory memories that bring me back to a time when my identity was still forming, but less burdened by the pressures and responsibilities of adulthood. This act of revisiting allows me to reconnect with the emotions, values, and perspectives that I held during those earlier years, while reinforcing a sense of self-continuity despite the changes I’ve undergone. It helps me reconnect with earlier versions of myself that felt more stable or understood, from a general standpoint. And which, ultimately, felt more authentic as well, as those versions of me had not yet been shaped by the intense emotional state of anxiety triggered by the disorder, the many fears that come along, or anxiety’s paralyzing obession with “preventing rather than curing.”

Image generated with AI by Savannah Taider

Active media consumption : introducing the concept of narrative identity

Furthermore, millennials’ unique connection with media and pop culture, and the formers’ role in identity formation, is nowadays no longer limited to simple passive consumption. With the rise of social media, our relationship with pop culture has indeed become more active as these platforms offer their users boundless opportunities to switch roles between pop culture consumers and pop culture contributors. Notably by crafting and sharing their own narratives: whether it’s remixing and reinterpreting existing media (e.g. fan fiction, memes…), or crafting and sharing their own personal stories (e.g. personal blogging, curated Instagram aesthetics…) to reflect their unique life experiences and identities.

The latter type of active engagement can be viewed as a coping mechanism as well for individuals with personality disorder. Especially since crafting and sharing personal narratives is an intentional and oftentimes reflective act that involves creating and collecting memories or other biographical data, then mediating these collections (online, in the present context) in forms of pictures, videos, blog articles, social media posts, or any other type of digital media.

Reflecting on my own experience with BPD, I came to conclude that narrativity, more commonly known as storytelling, plays a significant role in the process of identity continuity. Which consequently introduces the concept of narrative identity…

Read more in chapter II, coming soon.

1. It’s important to note the existence of intersectionality in identity, namely one outcome isn’t exclusive to the other. Identity is a complex construct that can undergo both gradual development (evolution) and immediate alterations (change) simultaneously.

2. For example, challenges linked to social/professional functioning may manifest as : 1) struggling to maintain consistent connections with others, leading to misunderstandings or conflicts ; 2) frequently changing social circles, or finding it hard to form deep, lasting friendships ; 3) difficulties in maintaining focus, commitment, or productivity ; 4) constantly questioning if one’s in the right field or role, leading to job-hopping, difficulty in completing projects, or conflicts with colleagues due to inconsistent behavior or decision-making.