Who Am I Without the Job?

I spent 25 years building a career I was proud of.

It took just over twelve months in the wrong organisation to leave me sitting at home wondering who I was.

That’s the bit that still surprises me. Twelve months. It did a lifetime of damage.

I’d been the reliable one for decades. The capable one. The one who got things done. I loved the work, the problem solving, the roads, the team. What I hadn’t noticed was how much of my identity was bolted onto the place I walked into every morning.

The letter

Deep down, I knew that organisation wasn’t right for me. I just hadn’t let myself think about what that meant.

Then a seven page letter arrived from management, blaming me for things I had no control over.

Seven pages. (I’ve written shorter submissions to council.)

Reading it, something clicked. I’d been told I couldn’t do something, then pulled up for not doing it. I’d been restricted at every turn, then held responsible for the result. The environment had been set up for me to fail.

That’s when I understood it was the organisation, not the job. I loved the work. I just couldn’t do it properly in a place that kept tying my hands.

By then I was on medical leave. Running on empty. Just functioning. I knew I was broken.

Without somewhere to go every day, the question arrived straight away.

If I’m not this, who am I?

The story underneath

Underneath it was a thought I’d never said out loud: “I’m only worth what I do.”

If I wasn’t the Roads Manager, if I wasn’t heading off to a job each morning, then what was I?

This is what I call The Stories, the first step in the Big Girl Pants Confidence Model. A thought turns up, it creates a feeling, and the feeling starts steering what you do next. When the thought is “I’m nothing without my job”, the feeling is a heavy, sinking kind of fear.

I couldn’t stop the thought from rising. Nobody can. What I could do was acknowledge it and ask whether it was helping me or hurting me. It was hurting me, so I started looking for a better one.

Working it out

I could have sat around moping. I’ll be honest, there were days I wanted to. But moping doesn’t get you anywhere, and the world doesn’t owe me anything.

So I put on my big girl pants and started working it out.

I decided I’d be willing to take a customer service job. I was prepared to take a position I’d normally be supervising. I told the people around me where I was at and I asked for help and ideas. I wasn’t embarrassed and I didn’t feel judged.

That was my Hurdle in Tight Jeans. Being honest about where I was, with my stomach in knots, and taking action anyway.

Starting my business gave me purpose. It also gave me the knowledge and skills to work on myself, which I badly needed. I was no good to anyone until I healed.

Then a new job offer came through, and I knew I wasn’t ready to start straight away. I needed another month. Without it I wouldn’t have lasted, because I was exhausted. Asking for that time was uncomfortable, but it was the right call.

Fighting it made it worse

Here’s the part I only see clearly now.

The shift had started months earlier. I could feel it, and I was fighting it. I told myself I could push through and that it would pass.

Fighting made everything more painful and more difficult. Once I accepted the situation, and how I felt about it, things began to flow. Not easily, and not overnight, but they flowed.

It’s 18 months later and I’d love to tell you it’s all behind me. It isn’t. Every so often something triggers me and sends me straight back to that old thinking.

The difference is that I recognise it quickly. I let the thought rise, acknowledge it, and take action immediately. I don’t sit in it for weeks anymore.

If this is you

Maybe you’re not on medical leave. Maybe the kids have moved out, or the job has gone flat, or you’ve been made redundant. Maybe you’re still turning up every day and quietly feeling like you’ve disappeared inside the role.

Different circumstances, same question. Who am I without this?

You don’t need the answer today. You need to be honest about where you are, then take the next step. A conversation. A phone call. An application for a job you’d once have said was beneath you. Whatever is in front of you.

Confidence comes after that, as the evidence builds that you can handle hard things. Not before.

You already have everything you need. The strength, the smarts, the ability to do hard things. You just need to be willing to shake in your boots while you do it.

Have you experienced something similar? Tell me your thoughts in the comments below. If this sounds like you and you want to have a chat, put “ME” in the comments and I’ll be in touch.