Who we are without work
Who we are without work
Part 2: An exploration on identity
This piece is part two of Work & Self-Expression, a series that explores our relationship with work, creativity, and the in between.
Part 2: Who we are without work
Part 3: Some practical thoughts on diversifying our identity
Part 4: The art of self-expression
Part 5: How to sabbatical
I've long believed that the work we choose to do is a meaningful representation of who we are. Throughout my career, my mission has been to find meaningful work that aligns with my values and partner with people who I deeply admire. This approach has brought me closer to alignment with each team I've joined.
On the face of it, this strategy seems logical — work at mission-driven companies as a means of actualizing my purpose. Yet, gone unchecked, I began tethering my identity to the companies I belonged to. I found myself investing the best parts of me in work, tying my self-worth to productivity, output, and more responsibility. Caught up in deriving meaning from my roles, I allowed myself to ignore the reality of working for corporations: there’s a transient nature to our work. With the passage of time and changes in company strategy, the impact of our contributions become like words in the sand, slowly waning, slowly fading, sometimes even before we move on to our next gig.
The truth of it all has the potential to send anyone into an existential tailspin.
When I parted ways with my full-time job a month ago, I sat down to reflect on who I was without work. This experience gave me pause. I felt a surge of panic and shame wash over me.
I’m a Chinese American woman. I’m a wife. I’m a daughter. I’m a sister. I’m a friend.
Who else am I? I’m a writer. I’m a builder. I’m an athlete. I’m a San Franciscan. I’m a community builder. I’m an advocate for psychological wellness. I’m a national park lover. I am many things. I am and will be versions of me I’ve yet to meet.
The panic stemmed from the recognition of what I’ve known all along, which was that my primary identity for the last decade was where I worked and what I did for work. I had spent my career making myself as legible as possible to others and now, I no longer had that safety blanket to cling to. There was something safe about being affiliated with a corporation, a safety net that caught me when I feared betting on myself. The feeling of worth that comes from earning a steady paycheck and belonging to an entity greater than me.
The shame was the result of allowing my primary identity to become so deeply coupled with a fate that was largely out of my control. By entwining my identity with work, I’ve put power into the hands of other people, the small groups of people who make the judgment call on how valuable each of us are to our organizations, and allowing them to dictate who I am and who I should be.
So, why is it that we overindex our identities to what we do for work?
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For one, we spend a large portion of our best waking hours working or thinking about work. Knowledge jobs have a hold on our lives in ways previously not possible, brought on by the democratization of remote work.
For someone who works 9 hours/day, they have ~60% of their waking hours left to cultivate other identities. But, if we’re not intentional about how we manage our energy, we may inadvertently find ourselves exhausted by the time evening rolls around or too tired to wake up without snoozing.
Even when I prioritized spinning up side projects and pursued hobbies as a full-time employee, it often felt like these other meaningful pursuits were squished into two hours here, two hours there — the rest of my life filled in on the fringes, taking a backseat when work got busy. When the best, most energized parts of me consistently showed up at work, it was no wonder why I’d let work define so much of who I was.
"Too many of us bring the best of ourselves to work and bring the leftovers home.” — Esther Perel
Another reason we anchor our identity to work is simply for ease and legibility.
There's a comfort in identifying with our job. It allows us to neatly put ourselves in a box. It makes for a simple introduction. It gives us something bigger than ourselves to belong to. It reduces optionality and decision fatigue around potential career moves. It keeps everything simple.
When we meet new people and convene with old acquaintances, in a well-meaning attempt to make conversation, “What do you do?” inevitably comes up. It’s easy to give them a well-polished pitch on the job title you hold at that impressive company in search of their seal of approval. It’s these interactions with people we’ve previously known or met in passing that make up our tapestry of societal expectations — moments where we seek validation, making ourselves most legible to people whose opinions won’t really matter to us at the end of the day.
In reality, the people closest to us often care least about our jobs. They care about us — that we’re healthy, happy, and pursuing things that bring us joy and meaning.
And, after all, isn’t that what we strive for? A meaningful life, filled with fulfilling work and a healthy body to sustain us through the years, deep relationships with our community, mastery in hobbies and other pursuits, adventures abroad, and being at peace with it all.
When we more evenly distribute our existence portfolio in accordance with all the things we actually value, what might our lives look like? If we diversify away from concentrating our identity into work, what spaces are we freeing up for other parts of us to flourish?
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I originally became fascinated with the role that identities play in our lives from the lens of behavior change, how we make decisions, and consequently, how we move through the world.
“Your identity emerges out of your habits. You are not born with preset beliefs. Every belief, including those about yourself, is learned and conditioned through experience.”
— James Clear
It seems that many of us are trapped under the illusion that we must hold on to identities that have lived past their shelf life. I’ve spoken with friends who feel stuck and dragged down by inertia as they attempt to grow and outgrow themselves.
“You are under no obligation to be the same person you were five minutes ago.”
— Alan Watts
Ultimately, it’s in our power to decide who we want to become and take action in alignment with those identities. The first step is getting intentional about who you want to become — the fully integrated you — and then begin experimenting with how to cultivate that identity. With that north star in mind and enough consistent action, your behaviors eventually become automatic habits and an extension of who you are.
The magic comes when we’re able to flow seamlessly between various identities, allowing us to derive sources of meaning beyond one facet of our life. We hold the power to untangle ourselves from one primary identity and step outside the boxes that hold us back.
There is a level of discomfort that comes with abandoning the well-paved trail to prioritize legibility to ourselves over playing the games that society deems worthy. How might we begin our exploration towards a more well-balanced identity portfolio?
Up next: Some practical thoughts on diversifying our identity & sources of meaning