Letting Go of a Role

Who are you when the external world no longer defines you?

A year ago, I walked away from my job. It was a good job, and I was good at it. Successful even. Well thought of. Making a difference for the people and the company I served. Travel, speaking in front groups, being an expert, meeting interesting people. But the whole time I always felt like there was more for me. Or maybe not more, that feels like a judgment against a job that never did anything to me, haha. Not more so much as different. I knew there was something different that I was meant to do with my one wild and precious life.

In the summer of 2024, I officially took the leap. I hit send on the email to the CEO and made public my private thoughts that I had been writing for years in my journal. I agreed to stay on with my company for 6 months until they found my replacement and then I was officially on my own.

My replacement. Those are funny words, aren’t they? As if one person could ever truly replace another person. But I have come to realize what is of course perfectly clear to most people I imagine: the role was just a role. One that could be replaced. And that job was always a job, not the whole of who I am.

So, I set out on my own. A lonely pioneer settling the unknown landscape of solopreneurship.  Created a company. Won contracts. Got lovely clients. Held workshops. Had success! Got paid! Added wonderful new people to my network. And I will soon be launching my podcast and delivering a keynote speech to over 300 people!

Yet despite success on my own, I also struggled to define myself. I found myself romanticizing the ease (or perhaps the familiarity) of being defined by a role. I am NAME with COMPANY and I am TITLE.  I am someone!

And in weaker moments of seeking self-definition, I actually (ugg I hate to admit it), tried to go back to my industry. True confessions, this past year. I chased a couple of bright and shiny looking jobs. Jobs that I was overqualified for, that I could do in my sleep, and I knew I could be successful at.

And I was rejected. It turns out that the corporate world was as unenthused as I was about my return!

Rejection! Well, hi there, that’s new. And that’s okay. More than okay. Welcome in fact. I am choosing to celebrate rejection (from a place I never really wanted to go back to!) as a nudge from the Universe. A wake-up call to double down on defining me for myself not looking to a role to do it for me.

And I am also forgiving myself. I forgive myself for seeking safety, or perceived safety- for seeking to be defined again by the outside world. Our old prehistoric brains want safety more than anything else.  This old mental equipment of ours causes us to perceive change as danger! Because for eons of human history change (letting go of a role) was seen as a threat. If you left the group (changed), you faced the prospect of certain death. Change feels scary because of the uncertainty it brings.

Okay so that’s me. Just out here defining my role one self-designed business card and awkward networking event introduction at a time. Choosing to show up perfectly imperfect and embracing uncertainty.

How about you?  How do you relate to your role?  Please know that I am not suggesting that you must leave your job to redefine yourself. It is of course possible to recognize that there is more to you than your job title while still embracing that job title.

 It all begins with a decision to be more aware.  To examine how you define yourself.

When we become attached to a role or confuse it with who we are, we limit ourselves. We lose sight of our true selves.

We get lost in ego, judgement and comparison. We fail to have authentic interactions with each other.

We limit our creativity and our power.

We hide behind our roles- seeking the perceived safety in certainty.

So, no more hiding for me. Thank you to everyone who has embraced this new version of me. And thank you, rejection, for keeping me on this path.

And remember, you define you. You are not your role. You are not your title. You are so much more than that. And that version of you can never be replaced.