When Your Identity Falls Apart It Finds Its Way Back

Today, I did something scary. I put my real self out there. Gulp. Not the polished version. Not the “I’ve got it all figured out” version. The raw one.

This past year was filled with joy and beautiful experiences and also a handful of WTF moments that leave you staring at the ceiling, hoping there’s a bigger plan you just can’t see yet.

My job was eliminated. And with it, I felt like I lost my identity. That job had been my safety net. My structure. My proof that I was “doing okay.” One of my biggest fears, losing my job after buying my home, came true.

The Roots of Identity and Safety

Growing up, I was painfully shy and anxious. It stemmed from having to tolerate a father who spread anger, blame and disconnectedness. When you have a bull charging through your china shop all the time you decide you will get out at any cost to avoid being cut up by the wreckage. Somewhere along the way, I decided my way out was achievement.

If I focused on my career…
If I learned everything I could…
If I became competent, helpful, valuable…
Then maybe the tension and fear would loosen its grip. And in many ways, it worked.

I loved my career. I loved learning, consulting, guiding others, connecting with people, and doing creative work. But when that routine disappeared, the questions rushed in fast and loud:

• Was I ever even good at what I did?
• Did I matter?
• Did I make a difference?
• Did I actually help anyone?

When Everything Feels Like It’s Falling Apart

I knew I needed to keep moving, so I threw myself back into rebuilding my consulting business. But socially, I felt like I no longer knew what I brought into a room.

I stopped participating in the late nights at bars filled with surface-level conversations. People at a bar did not want to get to know the real me anyway. I craved depth. I wanted honesty. I wanted connection. Sorry, but I don’t know many bars that serve that on the menu. As much as I loved being social and valued my relationship, there was too much drinking for it to feel healthy or safe.

Because of that came another blow. My partner disconnected from me. I felt it three weeks before it happened. That kind of knowing — the kind you feel in your bones — is brutal. Sweet Jesus… what next?

Choosing to Go Deeper Instead of Smaller

After the breakup, I scheduled counseling and committed to working on myself and my business at an even deeper level.

No more shying away. No more making myself small. It’s my time to shine. I told myself I was going to do this big. And then immediately thought: Oh sh*t… how am I actually going to do this?

Strangely, comfort came from an unexpected place. I found Anita Moorjani’s TEDx talk and her book Dying to Be Me. (Because apparently when life implodes, some of us turn to Near Death Experiences — totally normal, right?)

Her message was filled with peace, self-love, and truth. From there, I fell into listening to other NDE stories. One led me to Pegi Robinson, whose story was shared on a channel hosted by Anthony Chene.

Pegi talked about feeling unloved as a child. About a relationship impacted by drinking. About nearly drowning. Her life was hard. And suddenly, a memory surfaced: my mother saving me from drowning when I was little.

The parallels were uncanny. Her story brought me so much comfort that I wrote to her, simply to say thank you.

When the Universe Says “Now”

And then something wild happened. She invited me to be a guest on her show.

Just days earlier, I had this quiet inner knowing that I was supposed to be on a podcast or a show — something — but I had no idea how it would happen.

I woke up to her message. And boom — I was scheduled to be on her show the very next day.

She gave me space to share the parts of myself I had kept hidden — safely, honestly, without judgment. Her journey made me feel more confident in mine. For the first time in a long time, I felt… normal. I was not the outlier.

The Reminder I Didn’t Know I Needed

The day before that interview, former coworkers reached out and asked if I wanted to go to happy hour. I missed going out and being social with people I clicked with so I went lickety split.

Seeing them — hugging them — hearing them say how much they missed me and wished I was still there… it cracked something open in me. I mattered. I made a difference. My care, my effort, my presence — it wasn’t invisible. What a relief. This didn’t feel like an empty bar scene, instead we ate, connected, laughed and went home at a reasonable hour. I missed them and so deeply enjoyed being with them.

What I’m Learning About Connection and Truth

If you’re going through a hard season, please hear this: Do not wall yourself off. You are special. You are needed. Others need you just as much as you need them. It’s okay to share your truths.

I learned that disconnection is the opposite of love. There is freedom in sharing who you really are. There is healing in being seen. And sometimes, the scariest step, showing up as your real self, is the one that leads you home.

If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear your story. And if you’re standing in the middle of a “what now?” moment — you’re not alone.

Special thank to Pegi Robinson. I urge you to check out her story. It’s pretty amazing! She also has a book called “The Will of a Wildflower” you can purchase on Amazon.