I’m not old — I’m still in my 20s, after all — but I’ve definitely reached a new stage in life. I’m less driven by fear, more assertive, more confident, more sure of who I am. The flow-on effect is that I’m not afraid to try new things that would clash with the persona I’ve developed for myself.

As what some might call a rationalist intellectual, the last two places you’d expect to find me would be in church or at a football game. Yet last month I was indeed at church, and next month I’ll be at the Eels vs. Bulldogs game, and yet I’m not at all concerned about losing my sense of self in all of this. I already know who I am, quite separate to what activities I might choose to engage in.

When you’re still a teenager/young adult, your identity is formed in the same way that a baby might start to learn to walk. At first, you’re quite unsure of yourself, and you need to grab onto external objects to help prop you up. I called myself a Star Wars fan and a Peter Gabriel fan, for example, when I was in my early 20s, and if you took those away, I might not have been me anymore.

But now I’m standing on my own two feet quite confidently — I’m not anything other than simply Dion. Tomorrow I might be a sport-watching, church-going maniac, but I’d still be who I am. And frankly, I’m not going to stick with anything if I have to twist myself to fit it, but neither will I shy away from something because it’s outside my traditional comfort zone. In time, such things will either stick or be shrugged off.

Incidentally, yesterday was the Sunday of the Prodigal Son in the Orthodox calendar. It just seemed fitting to use such a day to put my icons back up after surrendering them years ago (in my final act of non-belief). Whether on not they’ll stay there remains to be seen.