Lost count of the sentences I highlighted, but settled on this: 'You can honor your old identity and still build something completely different.' thank you 💙
My identity is based on the idea of what I thought I would have: children and all. It’s giving up on a fictional idea of who I could be. I also thought that I would be a caregiver of my mom but she passed away when I was 30. Letting go of all these fictional identities that I thought are the only things that matters is scary. It feels like self erasure but maybe it’s not? Thanks for writing.
There's so much I could say about this, but I'm trying to learn to embrace brevity as I age, so I'll say this: this article helped me understand myself & the chapter in life that I'm in more than anything I've read in the last 3 years. So thank you, truly.
I am applying what you are saying to widowhood. After 50+ years of marriage…who am I? Well, I’m still digging out from the grim work of widowhood, and a recent life threatening illness, but I’m still here. Starting to dream about what I want to do and be next. Thank you for your Substack writing and support.
That “identity crisis nobody warns you about” feels (so some anyway) less like a crisis and more like an audit. When the roles and adaptations that carried us through earlier decades stop working, it can feel like collapse. Sometimes it’s misalignment becoming visible. And sometimes it’s identity evolving faster than our attachment to who we thought we were. Like what Molly describes with retirement...the reckoning is that you don't have to be anything to anyone, and that transition for some people is tricky, and for others (like Molly) it is a rite of passage.
I have accepted that life is a series of new beginnings, some we have a say in, others we don't. I trust the universe, and do my best to enjoy the journey, as it is a short ride after all.💚
Something interesting I’ve learned as someone who was never A Job to explain. I dreaded the “what do you do?” It’s an American thing. Maybe N. American. I live in Ohio. The French would never ask that question. It’s rude. Once after a month long stay in France on the airplane home, I was seated next to an American couple. FIRST question was drumroll please…”what do you do?” I had to laugh. I still hate the question. I’m reinventing right now creating this small group walking tour business (see the name) and starting from zero at 53.
I always hated that question too. Also, when ppl asked what university did you graduate from? What did you major in? As if it were a competition. As you get to Medicare age, no one asks you those questions any longer. Now, it’s how many grandchildren do you have? But for me it’s a sense of freedom to just be myself and in charge of my time. I’m now in a book club & have learned to play Canasta & Mahjong. And I’m loving every minute!
If you think midlife is that challenge - wait until retirement. I do not have to prove anything - after almost 50 years in the workforce - mostly in public service jobs. I do NOT have to choose in retirement. I am enough. I can do whatever the hell I want - and for no one but myself. I “made a difference” for other people for decades. I have earned the right to do nothing - for myself.
Exactly! I retired as an RN last year after 45 years. I’m free! I’m not going to volunteer or any of that nonsense. I’m going to do what I want to do, be with who I want to be with, and seek new experiences and adventure. I’m tired of being the one who takes care of everyone else. Time for me. Selfish? Maybe but love it.
Bravo!~. And thank you for your service. I worked for decades in hospitals in numerous administrative positions and also in nursing academics. Nurses give at the office AND at home. You deserve to be selfish <3
I’ve learned the hard way that life is all about accepting transitions and learning how to transform from them.
As a “type a” career girl who’d had her first promotion in marketing with all guns firing, I (and our little family) had out first life-changing transition in 1984 when I had my first stroke, three months postpartum.
It was brutal. I was very fortunate though, that my husband asked me to shoe him how to make formula and use the washer and dryer.
I spent three months in hospital and rehabilitation, learning to carry my baby girl on my left hip with a custom-made sandbag, among other things.
My employer also abolished my position and offered me secretarial work when I went from maternity leave to long-term disability. I consulted lawyers, who said I could easily sue them and win, but I chose to focus on positivity and found more another more suitable position. Temporarily.
Six years later, I suffered a more damaging stroke. Wore a leg brace for 12 years, and vowed to never work again.
Then came Botox injections the relax the paralysis in my foot and ankle. Seven years later, with less pain clouding my bandwidth, I rebooted my communications career at Justice Canada, where I became an expert in disability issues.
Now happily retired and a delighted grandma, I’m now a disability advocate, public speaker, and author of Becoming Comfortably Numb: A Memoir on Brain-mending. Available in Amazon:Kindle and wherever books are sold, it has been critically acclaimed by the medical and journalism communities, and is an inspiring and uplifting read for people and their caregivers living with disabilities or difficult lifetime issues.
I’m also a spokesperson for Canada’s Heart and Stroke Foundation — and committed to raising awareness amongst women about our increased and unique risks for heart disease and stroke throughout our lives. since tge research is so new, nearly 90% of women in Canada know about this.
Follow my Substack site where I talk about day to day disability issues and share good articles about cardiovascular issues.
Thanks for your time. Hubby’s bugging me to get to the beach now. Life is good!!!
I'm with you. Letting go of the identity attached to my career was a tricky thing to handle, but now that I am "on my own" there is a freedom that is quite pleasant.
Lost count of the sentences I highlighted, but settled on this: 'You can honor your old identity and still build something completely different.' thank you 💙
My identity is based on the idea of what I thought I would have: children and all. It’s giving up on a fictional idea of who I could be. I also thought that I would be a caregiver of my mom but she passed away when I was 30. Letting go of all these fictional identities that I thought are the only things that matters is scary. It feels like self erasure but maybe it’s not? Thanks for writing.
There's so much I could say about this, but I'm trying to learn to embrace brevity as I age, so I'll say this: this article helped me understand myself & the chapter in life that I'm in more than anything I've read in the last 3 years. So thank you, truly.
I am applying what you are saying to widowhood. After 50+ years of marriage…who am I? Well, I’m still digging out from the grim work of widowhood, and a recent life threatening illness, but I’m still here. Starting to dream about what I want to do and be next. Thank you for your Substack writing and support.
Dana Nelson
That “identity crisis nobody warns you about” feels (so some anyway) less like a crisis and more like an audit. When the roles and adaptations that carried us through earlier decades stop working, it can feel like collapse. Sometimes it’s misalignment becoming visible. And sometimes it’s identity evolving faster than our attachment to who we thought we were. Like what Molly describes with retirement...the reckoning is that you don't have to be anything to anyone, and that transition for some people is tricky, and for others (like Molly) it is a rite of passage.
I have accepted that life is a series of new beginnings, some we have a say in, others we don't. I trust the universe, and do my best to enjoy the journey, as it is a short ride after all.💚
Thanks for this. In this transition period too and it’s rocky. Especially with the fascism and all… ffs…🤦🏼♀️😂
Bravo....Beautiful...depth of truth.....totally went there and thru this.....just coming out the other side now....
Something interesting I’ve learned as someone who was never A Job to explain. I dreaded the “what do you do?” It’s an American thing. Maybe N. American. I live in Ohio. The French would never ask that question. It’s rude. Once after a month long stay in France on the airplane home, I was seated next to an American couple. FIRST question was drumroll please…”what do you do?” I had to laugh. I still hate the question. I’m reinventing right now creating this small group walking tour business (see the name) and starting from zero at 53.
I always hated that question too. Also, when ppl asked what university did you graduate from? What did you major in? As if it were a competition. As you get to Medicare age, no one asks you those questions any longer. Now, it’s how many grandchildren do you have? But for me it’s a sense of freedom to just be myself and in charge of my time. I’m now in a book club & have learned to play Canasta & Mahjong. And I’m loving every minute!
If you think midlife is that challenge - wait until retirement. I do not have to prove anything - after almost 50 years in the workforce - mostly in public service jobs. I do NOT have to choose in retirement. I am enough. I can do whatever the hell I want - and for no one but myself. I “made a difference” for other people for decades. I have earned the right to do nothing - for myself.
Exactly! I retired as an RN last year after 45 years. I’m free! I’m not going to volunteer or any of that nonsense. I’m going to do what I want to do, be with who I want to be with, and seek new experiences and adventure. I’m tired of being the one who takes care of everyone else. Time for me. Selfish? Maybe but love it.
Bravo!~. And thank you for your service. I worked for decades in hospitals in numerous administrative positions and also in nursing academics. Nurses give at the office AND at home. You deserve to be selfish <3
I’ve learned the hard way that life is all about accepting transitions and learning how to transform from them.
As a “type a” career girl who’d had her first promotion in marketing with all guns firing, I (and our little family) had out first life-changing transition in 1984 when I had my first stroke, three months postpartum.
It was brutal. I was very fortunate though, that my husband asked me to shoe him how to make formula and use the washer and dryer.
I spent three months in hospital and rehabilitation, learning to carry my baby girl on my left hip with a custom-made sandbag, among other things.
My employer also abolished my position and offered me secretarial work when I went from maternity leave to long-term disability. I consulted lawyers, who said I could easily sue them and win, but I chose to focus on positivity and found more another more suitable position. Temporarily.
Six years later, I suffered a more damaging stroke. Wore a leg brace for 12 years, and vowed to never work again.
Then came Botox injections the relax the paralysis in my foot and ankle. Seven years later, with less pain clouding my bandwidth, I rebooted my communications career at Justice Canada, where I became an expert in disability issues.
Now happily retired and a delighted grandma, I’m now a disability advocate, public speaker, and author of Becoming Comfortably Numb: A Memoir on Brain-mending. Available in Amazon:Kindle and wherever books are sold, it has been critically acclaimed by the medical and journalism communities, and is an inspiring and uplifting read for people and their caregivers living with disabilities or difficult lifetime issues.
I’m also a spokesperson for Canada’s Heart and Stroke Foundation — and committed to raising awareness amongst women about our increased and unique risks for heart disease and stroke throughout our lives. since tge research is so new, nearly 90% of women in Canada know about this.
Follow my Substack site where I talk about day to day disability issues and share good articles about cardiovascular issues.
Thanks for your time. Hubby’s bugging me to get to the beach now. Life is good!!!
I'm with you. Letting go of the identity attached to my career was a tricky thing to handle, but now that I am "on my own" there is a freedom that is quite pleasant.