When Buddy the Elf discovers he’s not truly an elf but a human, his world tilts. The labels he’s carried—elf, toy-maker, Santa’s helper—suddenly feel fragile, like they might crumble under the weight of this new truth. He begins to question everything about his identity. But as Buddy sets out for New York, something remarkable happens: instead of being defined by this revelation, he takes a closer look at himself. He holds on to the core of who he’s always been—a kind-hearted, joy-filled, uniquely Buddy soul.

That self-awareness becomes his anchor as he embarks on a journey not to redefine himself, but to live fully into the person he was always meant to be.

Isn’t that the journey we all face? The process of uncovering and accepting who we are at our deepest level, even as we move through the twists and turns of life. It’s not about becoming someone entirely new; it’s about discovering the beauty of who we’ve been all along and having the courage to live it out.

Advent is a season of anticipation, a time of leaning into the hope of what is yet to come. But it’s also a season of reflection, an invitation to examine who we are and who we are becoming. And part of that journey means asking a hard question: Who gets to define me?

We leave childhood carrying the fingerprints of those who raised us. Our parents, often with the best intentions, shape us with their ideals, their hopes, and their own unspoken wounds. We learn early what is praised and what is corrected, what parts of ourselves are welcome and what parts are quietly dismissed. 

It’s not intentional, but it leaves a mark. Sometimes, a very large one.

By the time adolescence arrives, we start to feel the tension. 

Who am I, really? Am I who they say I am? Am I the shy one, the troublemaker, the overachiever, the peacekeeper? Or am I something else entirely?

Adulthood offers us a gift: the chance to step back from those labels and ask, Who gets to define me? 

It’s not an easy question. Defining yourself means sifting through the expectations placed on you—by family, culture, even faith—and deciding which ones to keep and which ones to release.

Here’s the good news of Advent: the One who came into this world as a vulnerable baby didn’t come to burden us with more labels. Jesus came to free us from them. The Messiah’s birth was God’s way of saying, You are already loved. You are already enough.

As we journey through Advent, we’re reminded of this truth: our identity isn’t tied to what we’ve done, what others expect, or the wounds we carry. It’s tied to the One who created us, who came to dwell with us, and who calls us beloved.

Buddy didn’t stop being joyful, curious, or kind just because he learned he wasn’t an elf. He could have let bitterness creep in, but he didn’t. Instead, he embraced the parts of himself that mattered most and let them guide him toward the life he wanted—a life filled with love, belonging, and authenticity.

So, who gets to define you? 

Not your past. 

Not the labels others gave you. 

Not the wounds you carry. 

Only you.

And if we trust the message of Advent, we can also say this: The One who shaped the stars and walked among us calls you beloved. That’s the truest thing about you.

Advent Reflection:

  • What labels from childhood are you still carrying?
  • Are those labels helping or hindering you from becoming the person you want to be?
  • How does knowing you are loved and called “beloved” by God change the way you see yourself?
  • No one else gets to define who you are. Only you—and the God who calls you beloved. So, who will you choose to be this Advent season?

Prayer:
Lover of all,
As we journey through this season of waiting, let’s hold onto the light of hope that Advent offers. Let’s peel back the layers, releasing what no longer serves us, and hold onto the truth that we are loved, just as we are.
Amen.