You Are More Than Your Career: Finding Yourself Outside of Work
Hey friend,
What if I told you that the most decorated, capable, externally "together" people I know often say the same quiet sentence behind closed doors?
"I don't know who I am outside of this."
And by "this," they mean… the work. The meetings. The momentum. The title. The calendar. The results.
They don't mean they don't care about their role. They mean they can't find themselves without it.
And if you are honest you have probably felt that too.
Not because you're lost. But because your identity has been defined by your career for too long, its time to know your worth outside of your role your salary your company.
You Weren't Always This Tied to a Role
There was a time when your name came before your job title. When you felt full without needing to be impressive. When you were connected to your curiosity, not your calendar. When your presence wasn't shaped by deliverables or expectations.
But slowly, the lines blurred.
You got really good at what you do. You became known for it. You found safety in it. Value in it. Identity in it.
Until you weren't just doing the job… You were the job. The Job was you!
You Started Leading With Your Résumé
And to be fair, it worked. Because society….
You built credibility. You earned the trust. You became "that person."
You showed up as the founder. The closer. The leader. The expert. The name people drop in rooms where it matters. Or you aspired to become it… and boy thats exhausting
But here's the thing no one talks about:
What begins as ownership quietly becomes entrapment.
When your identity is built on performance, approval, deliverables or productivity, you always feel like you're one off day away from disappearing. You are always on the treadmill of what is next, you are always seeking more. And therefore not grounded in the now, in the present, the you who is already whole.
The Real Risk Isn't Failure, It's Forgetting
When who you are gets buried under what you do… Your nervous system stays on, in fight of flight mode. Your rest feels uneasy. And your silence feels deafening
You over-explain yourself when you're not "busy." You feel guilty when you're not producing. You say, "I'm fine," when the truth is: You're just afraid to be still.
But that stillness? It's where the remembering begins.
And NOT remembering the role. Remembering you. Remembering that you are worthy simpy because you are.
So Here's the Shift
What if you didn't need to prove yourself to gain visibility? What if you didn't have to put on a front to feel powerful?
What if your identity didn't collapse when the title changed, or God forbid went away… Because it was never truly about the title
Sit with that…
Because most people don't fall apart from failure. They fall apart from over-identifying with what was never meant to hold their full truth.
You Don't Need to Burn It All Down, But You Do Need to Come Home
To the version of you that isn't addicted to output. To the voice that speaks before your inbox shapes your priorities. To the self that's still powerful, even in the quiet.
That version of you isn't gone. They have just been out of practice.
And the good news?
You don't have to figure her/him out. You just have to stop abandoning her/him
This Is the Real Identity Work
It's not about rejecting your ambition. It's about expanding your identity so it's not held hostage by it.
Because when your sense of self isn't built on performance, you don't have to fight for peace, you just are peace.
You don't have to chase clarity, you are it.
You don't need a new title to feel worthy. You remember: you always were. You already are
This is how we build a life that feels as good as it looks. This work is about winning from within.
And if you're feeling the pull to reconnect, to strip the role and meet yourself again?
You're not off-track. You're on the edge of something real.
With love, Brandi
PS: If this sparked something in you, share it. Someone else out there is performing a version of themselves that's quietly wearing them out. Let them know they're not alone. Because we have all been there. You got this