Dealing with identity crisis
Following my first post, I want to say a huge thank you for your overwhelming support and encouraging responses. I had my next post all lined up but my reference to identity crisis appears to have struck a chord, so I’ve decided to share some more with you on this. Shame and identity crisis were the last things I expected to feel given all the remaining facets to my life. I’m a wife, mother, public speaker, company director and involved in multiple charities at leadership levels. Quite a resumé, wouldn’t you say? I should have been glad to be taking a plate off my spinners with less requirements for my superwoman juggling acts. Truth is, I was and wasn’t in equal measures. My resumé was a ‘doing’ one and not completely representative of me. I left out the ‘who I am’ and focused on the ‘what I do’. So what was my next move? I acknowledged what I was feeling to myself and balanced out my mental resumé. I gave in to my ‘Dr Pepper’ moment and asked myself ‘what’s the worst that can happen?’ I pictured myself breaking the news. My family and some trusted close friends were the first to hear about it. One or two had questions but they all had faith in me and encouraged me. I began to share it with more people. It was emotionally draining but freeing. Some times, I felt like I was justifying my life and my choices to those who weren’t living it. I was frustrated at some people’s responses but soon realised they were projecting their own fears and mindsets. I had a choice to be defensive or more selective so I chose the latter, recognising when to say, ‘this is my news and not a discussion point’. It got easier and I was less emotional over time. I have a renewed appreciation for those going through any major change. My reminders to those coping with identity crisis after a job loss or change are:
Welcome to Purposeful me
There are five weeks to the end of 2017 and what a year this has been. My expectations at the start of the year are completely opposite to what it's looking like now. In January, I had a secure job with a great income but come the end of the year, I am ripping off the comfort blanket of a regular income. I've opted to leave my banking career after 16 plus years. It wasn’t an easy decision to make but once I made it, I felt a mixture of emotions ranging from relief, joy and fear to surprisingly shame. I could understand all the other emotions but why would I feel shame? That’s the million-dollar question. I was ashamed of walking away from a well-paying corporate job that I am great at, partly because it didn’t make sense to explain it to family, friends, and colleagues. I didn’t realise how much of my identity was tied to my job until I chose to let it go. Surprisingly I feel like it's a crime not to have a 'great' job with a steady income and this is eye-opening for me.