The urge to fix
For most of my life, I thought being human meant building an identity the world could see. Titles, reputations, labels, if they were positive, that was the goal.
The best footballer? That gave me respect.
The funny one? That made me likeable.
The successful one? That made people gravitate toward me.
And in many ways, it worked. I felt like I was “nailing life.” If that’s how you define success and at the time, I did.
But here’s the thing about identities: they’re fragile. When I stopped playing football because I wasn’t good enough anymore, that badge disappeared. When being funny started to feel more like a performance than a natural part of me, the shine wore off. And when chasing success left me burned out, the “successful one” started to feel more like a cage than a crown.
And it makes sense — when you’ve worked hard to acquire these identities, you also work hard to keep them intact. You spend energy thinking about how you’re showing up, how others are perceiving you, and whether you’re still living up to the role. Before long, you’re overthinking everything.
The easy option is to keep trying on new identities. The party guy. The “best dad ever.” The cyclist. And each one burns bright for a while. But eventually, they fade. And when they do, you’re left wondering: who am I without all of this?
For me, the real work has been learning how to be without those identities. At first, it didn’t feel good. It felt boring. Hollow. Like a 10% version of myself. But over time, I realised something: all of those parts of me still exist. They don’t need to be showcased to be real. They can weave in and out, part of the tapestry of life, showing up naturally when they’re called for.
My biggest challenge was believing that depth and seriousness couldn’t exist alongside humour and lightness. I thought I had to choose one or the other — the deep thinker or the fun, playful guy. I tried on both. But the truth is, they’re both me. And when I stop forcing one to be “my identity,” they co-exist just fine.
And here’s the other thing: I’d read versions of this message dozens of times before. Every personal development book, every podcast, they all point back to the same truth. But there’s a huge difference between reading it and actually experiencing it. You don’t get it until you’ve lived it, looked back, and thought, “Oh, that’s what they meant.”
So my advice is this: let the books and podcasts wash over you. Don’t try to implement every tip or force the wisdom to stick. Just take it in, live your life, and trust that when the time is right, it’ll land.
Identity isn’t the point. It’s not the performance or the badge. It’s noticing the parts of you as they rise and fall, and trusting that you’re still you, even when none of them are on display.