For most of our lives, we carry around a set of instructions for how to be a person. Not the kind written down (because wouldn’t that be nice), but the unspoken rules we picked up along the way.
I’m the responsible one.
I’m the fixer.
I’m independent—I don’t need anyone.
I’m the strong one who keeps it together.
These identities don’t just appear out of nowhere. We don’t wake up one day and think, You know what would be fun? Becoming the one everyone depends on while silently resenting it. No, these roles are shaped by what was needed—what kept us safe, what made us feel like we belonged.
And then, one day, they don’t fit anymore.
Maybe you’ve spent your whole life being the one who holds everything together—only to realize you don’t want to anymore. Maybe you’ve built an identity around being self-sufficient, and now, suddenly, you find yourself longing to be held, to let someone else carry some of the weight. Maybe you’ve always been the problem-solver, and now the thought of fixing one more thing makes you want to disappear into the woods and live among the squirrels.
What happens when you realize you’re not who you thought you were?
At first, it can feel like something is breaking. If I’m not the strong one, the responsible one, the independent one, then who am I? If I let go of this identity—the one that made me feel needed, or loved, or safe—what’s left?
There’s a reason we hold on so tightly. These identities gave us something. Maybe they kept us safe. Maybe they helped us earn love. Maybe they were the only way we knew how to belong.
But at some point, they can start to feel less like truths and more like obligations. Less like who you are and more like a very exhausting full-time job with no benefits.
And here’s the part no one really tells you: Letting go of an old identity doesn’t mean instantly stepping into a new one. There’s no magical Now You Are Healed moment where everything clicks into place. Instead, you stand in the not knowing. You sit in the discomfort of shedding something familiar without yet knowing what will take its place.
And that’s hard. Because even when we want change, the in-between—the Who am I, if I’m not that?—can feel like free-falling without a parachute.
But maybe the goal isn’t to swap one label for another. Maybe it’s to loosen the grip altogether. To stop trying to be something and just be here. To stop defining ourselves so rigidly and let some room exist for whatever is unfolding.
Because maybe you’re not just one thing. Maybe you never were. Maybe you’ve always been more fluid, more layered, more complex than the roles you’ve played.
And maybe, in letting go of who you thought you were, you’re making space for something even bigger—something that doesn’t need a label, but simply asks:
Who am I, today?
Embracing Shadows, Illuminating Hope,
Chelsey Fjeldheim, LCSW
Empowering Souls on the Path of Healing
Copyright © 2025 Chelsey Fjeldheim, Courage Speaks Counseling
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