Identity

The issue of identity may not come up much in day to day life, but it’s core to our work at Second Rodeo. It’s particularly relevant for people whose primary profession tended to provide an easy source for that identity.

My identity is not just how I see myself. It also shapes how I want others to perceive me.

A lot of professions convey information beyond what we actually do in our work. Work identity also provides a way of communicating things like, “I’m very smart” or “I make a lot of money” or “I am a powerful person.”

I remember doing succession work with the owner of a large construction company, headquartered in a small town. His leadership style might be described as “large and in charge.” There was never any doubt about who the boss was, and everyone inside his organization both loved and feared him. He was:

• A leader in the community while being unusually hands-on in running his business

• President of one of the local service clubs

• The driving force behind the renovation of a local, historic theater

• A contributor to every major fundraiser within fifty miles

• So in demand that he couldn’t sit down at a restaurant without a dozen people coming by to greet him

He loved to complain about it, but it seemed he clearly enjoyed the attention.

When he finally sold the business to some key employees, he wasn’t interested in discussing a Second Rodeo. “Thanks, I’m good,” he assured me. “I’ll never run out of things to do.” About a year after his retirement, I called just to check in. He was bored and discouraged. “I used to be somebody in this town,” he lamented. “People returned my phone calls. Laughed at my jokes. Now I’m just another fat, old man.”

At least on that day, he was experiencing the loss of identity that had been coupled to his first career. Half-heartedly, he talked about starting another business, even though his tendency to over-identity with his work had taken a heavy toll on his marriages and his relationships with his adult children. We didn’t stay in touch; I hope he was able to find a meaningful way forward.

When we were quite young, one of our first major steps toward maturation was the desire to differentiate ourselves from others. How am I different than my parents or my community? How do I want to present myself to the world? These existential questions may never rise to the level of consciousness, but we all want to know, Who am I and where do I belong? Many of us are living with an identity based on what we do, not who we really are. If it’s not work, it’s a hobby or group I identify with.

Committing too soon to an identity can keep us from evolving. Organizational psychologist, professor, and darling of the TED stage Adam Grant writes, “I’ve noticed the students who are the most certain about their career plans at twenty are often the ones with the deepest regrets by thirty.”

And yet people who don’t adequately differentiate self are particularly dependent on the acceptance and approval of others and may be prone to people-pleasing and wanting to conform to the group. Young people sometimes use clothing or hairstyle or an allegiance to a style of music as a way of trying on an identity. It’s less about style and more about finding a tribe they want to be part of.

This experimentation will often cause anxiety for parents, especially if they want to imprint a specific identity on their children. A friend and I were driving past an affluent charter school as kids were being dismissed. Seeing all the kids in uniforms—khaki pants and polo shirts—he joked, “Who would want to dress little kids like middle-aged golfers?” Then spotting a couple of similarly attired parents nearby, he answered his own question. “I guess middle-aged golfers would think it’s a good idea!”

A Second Rodeo is an incredible opportunity to revisit the topic of personal identity. I’m not necessarily interested in what a client’s identity actually is. Rather, I’m looking to see if it’s helpful in charting a course toward whatever is next.

One way to reframe my identity is to consider those things that don’t change with a job or pursuit, which typically have a season of importance. Considering who I am in light of my character and/or deepest values–not what I do–might be a good place to start.

When our identity is threatened, it’s unsettling, and one of the most common reasons for the discomfort and malaise that often follows a traditional model of retirement. A settled identity is a great foundation upon which to build ever more significant chapters of life. Call me to discuss your own next chapter!


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