Grieving the loss when our identity changes

Almost every coaching session I facilitate includes conversation around the concepts of identity and grief.

Identity is our idea of ourselves. If someone says, “Who are you?” we begin with the basics of our identity. “I’m a woman, a mother, an accountant, a Canadian.” But take it just slightly further and we get into the good stuff.

“I’m an artist, a runner, a leader.”

More often that not, it also goes to the identities that the person is afraid to own.

“I’d like to be a writer but I don’t have time to write every day.” “I wish I was athletic but I’ve always been clumsy.” “I can’t call myself a photographer because I don’t have an expensive camera.”

Our identity can be incredibly motivating and anchoring. As I’ve written recently, we can use identity to reinforce our good habits. “I’m a knitter so I need to finish this sweater.”

But identity can also shore up our limiting beliefs.

“I’d apply for that job but I’m not a leader.” “I’d call myself an artist but I’ve never exhibited my work.” “I’m old – I can’t do a triathlon.”

The thing is, our identity changes throughout our lives, and we need to take note when the identity we thought was true is no longer accurate or helpful for us.

That’s where grief becomes part of the conversation. We need to mourn the changes in our lives, even ones that we want to make. We may decide to downsize, but we can still mourn the garden that we’re leaving behind. We might choose to leave a job to take a better one, but we can still grieve the things we loved about that old role. And we can mourn who we were in that house or that job.

It’s even harder when our identity changes against our will.

Last week I coached someone who was dealing with grief and a changed identity. She was enrolled in a graduate-level degree program for her dream job. And she’d been fired from that dream job six months ago.

The dream job was part of her identity. Without it, she thought she could no longer identify with who she was in that dream. Plus the degree she was getting cost a lot of money, and it wasn’t really part of who she was anymore. It was like losing your dream house but still paying the mortgage on it.

As the coach, I’m not supposed to ask leading questions, but I couldn’t resist because I thought there might be a way to give her a new perspective. I gently asked, “What role does grief play for you in this situation?”

She burst into tears, and I knew we were on the right track. As we continued the coaching session, we invited grief to be part of the conversation. By the end, she wasn’t “fixed” but she had some new, constructive ways of thinking about her concerns.

Talking about grief in our society is still not really acceptable, especially when it’s not connected to death. But when we don’t allow ourselves to grieve the changes in our lives, we can be left hanging on to things that don’t fit anymore.

Our identity will continue to change, and grieving what used to be is healthy. We don’t have to beat ourselves up for either of those things.