You are never the same, a Freudian and Lacanian perspective of the Being

Travelling during the holidays, I met a few friends and family, and I was confronted with the memories these people hold of me. When someone told me, "You have not changed," what do they really mean? Is it a truthful statement, or does it reveal more about their perception than about me? Through the lenses of Lacan and Freud, we can unpack this seemingly simple assertion and uncover the deeper layers of being and culture that shape our identities.

The Illusion of Sameness

Freud's psychoanalytic theory emphasizes the role of the unconscious in shaping our behavior and identity. While the conscious mind might cling to the idea of a stable, unchanging self, the unconscious operates in a realm of fluidity and constant transformation. To Freud, the repetition of certain behaviors or patterns—what he called the compulsion to repeat—is not an indication of sameness but rather a manifestation of unresolved conflicts or repressed desires.

Lacan deepens this idea by introducing the concept of the subject as divided and always incomplete. For Lacan, the I that we present to the world is a construct—a symbolic representation shaped by language, culture, and the gaze of others, and thus always incomplete. When someone claims you are "the same," they are not seeing you as you are but rather anchoring their perception of you to a particular act or reflection in their memory. This fixation becomes what Lacan might describe as a synthome (or sinthome in his later works), a knot of meaning that structures their psychic reality.

Culture and the Fluid Self

Our identities are deeply embedded in the culture around us. Freud recognized that the superego—the internalized voice of societal norms—exerts immense influence on our desires and behaviors. Lacan extended this idea, arguing that culture is not just an external force but the very fabric through which we come to know ourselves. Language, symbols, and shared values all act as mirrors, reflecting back versions of ourselves that are always shifting as culture evolves.

In this sense, you are never truly the same because the cultural context around you is always changing. We are pierced by the culture around us, and the longer we live, the more embedded into it we become. What might appear as consistency is merely the repetition of certain signifiers within a particular cultural framework. For instance, a habit or phrase that once carried one meaning may now resonate differently due to changes in social norms or personal experiences.

Memory and Attachment

When people say, "You are always the same," or "You have not changed a bit," they are often clinging to a memory of you—a snapshot frozen in time, an act isolated from the rest of who you are. Freud’s understanding of memory reveals that it is not a static archive but a dynamic process. Memories are reconstructed each time they are recalled, shaped by present circumstances and unconscious desires. Lacan would argue that this act of remembering is mediated by the symbolic order, where meaning is always deferred and contingent.

The attachment to a particular memory can point to a synthome, a signifier or chain of events that, through a detour, attempts to make sense of a past and possibly traumatic event via a physical or mental sequence of ideas that protect us. For the person making the claim, "You are always the same," it may be less about who we are now and more about their need to stabilize their own identity by anchoring it to a fixed image of you. In this way, their statement reflects their own psychic structure rather than any objective truth about you.

Embracing Difference

To live authentically, we must embrace the fact that we are always different. We transit life collecting stones and, paraphrasing Pessoa, with the hope of making a castle one day. Our identities are shaped continuously by the interplay of unconscious drives, cultural influences, and relational dynamics with our surroundings. Freud and Lacan teach us that this flux is not a weakness but a fundamental aspect of being human. Recognizing this can free us from the need to conform to others' static perceptions or to cling to outdated images of ourselves.

Lacan made a subtle distinction in his final works: a synthome could be transformed into a sinthome, which means, in Old French, something that falls together into a kind of synthesis. This transformation allows us to turn our weaknesses into strengths.

The next time someone tells you, "You are always the same," consider responding with a Lacanian twist: "Perhaps I am, but only in your memory." This response acknowledges the relational nature of identity while gently inviting the other person to reflect on their own attachments.

In the end, we are all subjects in process, perpetually reshaped by the culture we inhabit and the relationships we forge. To understand this is to honor the complexity of the human experience—an experience that is, and always will be, beautifully different.