Defining Yourself Before the World Defines You
If I didn't define myself for myself, I would be eaten alive. — Audre Lorde
—What lingers after this line?
One-minute reflection
What feeling does this quote bring up for you?
Self-Definition as Survival
Audre Lorde’s line frames identity not as a luxury, but as a form of protection. To “define myself for myself” implies active authorship—choosing one’s meanings, boundaries, and values rather than inheriting them passively. In this sense, self-definition becomes survival work, especially for anyone whose existence is routinely misunderstood or reduced. From there, the stark image of being “eaten alive” clarifies the stakes: without self-definition, the world’s narratives can consume a person’s sense of worth. Lorde’s phrasing insists that identity is not merely discovered; it is defended, shaped, and repeatedly reaffirmed against forces that would prefer it smaller.
The Violence of Other People’s Narratives
Continuing this thought, Lorde points to how social labels can function like tools of control. When others define you, their definitions often carry expectations—how you should speak, desire, behave, or aspire. Over time, those imposed stories can erase complexity and flatten a person into something convenient. Lorde’s broader work, such as *Sister Outsider* (1984), repeatedly warns that silence and compliance are not neutral; they make space for misnaming and misuse. In that light, “eaten alive” is also a description of gradual harm: not always a single dramatic act, but a steady erosion produced by stereotyping, dismissal, and the demand to perform an acceptable version of yourself.
Language as a Tool of Power
Because definition happens through words, the struggle is partly linguistic. Naming yourself—claiming your experiences, pronouns, lineage, desires, and contradictions—becomes a way to control the terms of your life. Lorde, a poet, underscores that language is not just descriptive; it shapes what becomes thinkable and permissible. This is why her statement feels both personal and political: by defining herself, she resists being turned into an object of someone else’s vocabulary. The transition from being named to self-naming marks a shift in power, where a person moves from being interpreted to being an interpreter of their own reality.
Living at Intersections
Lorde’s urgency also reflects the pressure of navigating multiple identities at once. When you live at intersections—race, gender, sexuality, class—other people may try to simplify you into a single, palatable category. The more complex your reality, the more aggressively the world may attempt to “manage” it through easy definitions. Here, self-definition becomes a refusal of fragmentation. Rather than letting society decide which parts are acceptable and which must be hidden, Lorde’s approach suggests integrating the whole self. That integration is not abstract; it determines which spaces you can safely enter, which relationships nourish you, and which demands you must reject.
Boundaries Against Consumption
Moving from identity to daily life, “eaten alive” can be read as the consequence of living without boundaries. If you lack a clear sense of self, it becomes easier for institutions, families, partners, or workplaces to overtake your time and spirit. The metaphor resembles emotional predation—being drained, used, or reshaped to fit other people’s needs. Self-definition, then, includes the right to say no and the clarity to recognize exploitation. It is the inner framework that makes limits feel legitimate rather than selfish. By defining herself first, Lorde establishes a line the world must negotiate rather than cross.
The Ongoing Practice of Becoming
Finally, Lorde’s statement implies that self-definition is not a one-time declaration; it is continual labor. People change, contexts shift, and new pressures arrive, so the self must be rearticulated again and again. The act of defining becomes a practice of revisiting what you believe, what you refuse, and what you claim. In that continuity, Lorde offers a model of selfhood as deliberate becoming: you compose yourself in the face of forces that would compose you instead. The result is not invulnerability, but agency—enough to keep your life from being swallowed by other people’s scripts.