Ready To Be Seen? Lockdown Identity Loss & Creation
Many of us are struggling today as we are no longer living our normal lives. I shared an HBR article recently about grief and the loss many of us are feeling as we try to navigate this unusual time. This morning I listened to Elizabeth Gilbert’s wonderful podcast where she interviewed Glennon Doyle Melton and I realised that it’s not just our ‘normal lives’ that we are grieving, but also a loss of identity.
So many of us (most of us?) define ourselves by our roles: I’m a Marketing Director, a CEO, a Head of … and so forth. I’ve even heard that children are struggling as they were a GCSE or A-level student… and now?
The global pandemic and subsequent lockdown has meant that many of us are now on furlough or have been made redundant. Even if not, our corporate identities don’t have the same weight or bearing at home as everyone tries to find a space in which to exist and function. Students will now be graded by teachers and not sit exams. For everyone a large part of their identity and sense of purpose taken away suddenly and without warning.
Women in particular define ourselves through our roles, or as Glennon puts it “who she loves and what she does”. In the podcast she describes rock bottom as a place that feels like there is an eviction from your life. Although she was speaking about a ‘before and after moments’, the ones from which you can’t go back (like before and after a diagnosis or discovering an infidelity), I wondered can it be applied here? The sense that we been unwillingly evicted from our lives and can we go back from this?
I believe that something is shifting and will shift for us during this time. Glennon’s argument is that these evictions come about as we are being called to a truer identity - one that is longer lasting and that can’t be taken so easily from us. This is what her new book is about (‘Carry on Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy Beautiful Life’).
Listening to the podcast this morning the message resonated loudly for me as Liz and Glennon discussed tuning into the voice inside all of us; “that small still voice that knows what to do and what she wants. And to start to live life in accordance with that”.
For those of you that know me I am a ‘Head of Customer’ or ‘Global Head of…’. My identity is closely aligned to my corporate persona and it’s always been important to me. I have been a qualified transformational coach for 3 years and yet changing my LinkedIn profile to reflect this was incredibly hard. I’ve been focused on not letting the fear voice drown out the “small still voice” and instead making my new role and purpose visible.
I didn’t for many years, I had every reason not to train professionally as a coach: “I’m not the right person to do this”, “II’ll do it one day”, “I’ll do before I’m 40” (that last one at least helped). Once I completed the training it became “I need more qualifications”. The fear voice (or ego) tried to protect us and keep us safe. It’s using telling us a version of “don’t make fool of yourself, don’t take risks, you’re not ready, it won’t work out”, can anyone relate to that?
Glennon throws out in the podcast something that will stick with me, she says “everything on earth has been created by people who showed up before they were ready. Stop deeming ourselves unworthy of invitations to create and let’s start trusting the inviter”.
We have all become masters of drowning out our inner voice. We numb it with alcohol, we avoid it by keeping busy. Yet it will always find a way through; it can manifest in physical symptoms of pain or tension, or mentally feeling disconnected, out of alignment or even depressed.
So while we are morning the loss of our old lives and our identities, can we start to listen in to what else is there? Can you tune into what’s calling or inviting you?
Start trusting the voice, tune in, step-up and show-up, before you are ready.
If you want some support in doing this work, please message me and arrange a free consultation.
Ref: Podcast: Magic Lessons with Elizabeth Gilbert and Glennon Doyle Molton