Soon after my husband died, I invited my parents for lunch, and said that my brother couldn’t make it so there would only be the four of us. My mother asked who else would be joining us—who was the fourth person? In two heartbeats I did the math, and realized that there would not be four of us. No, there would only be three. I was no longer Mike-and-Elaine. I was just Elaine. My math had changed. And that was going to take some getting used to.
Death, and endings of all sorts, can shock you in so many ways. One of the most slyly discombobulating is the change of identity that can slam into you at the same time that everything else is also falling apart. Maybe, like me, you’ve been part of a couple and now you’re a singleton. Or maybe you gave up a cherished role or identity to take care of someone, and now that you are no longer needed as a caretaker, you might feel like you’re hanging out in limbo.
Even something we dread can sneakily become part of our identity. Whether you love or loathe your life and responsibilities, you may not have noticed how much of your identity comes from being a spouse, a lawyer, a sibling, or even an independent. Then one not-so-fine day you lose a job, a limb, or a loved one, and grief throws you into confusion as you look around at your strange new life and try to figure out who you are now.
It makes perfect sense that being hurled into the unknown can feel distressing. Mindfulness supports your resilience by helping you recognize that whether you want it or not, something new is beginning and maybe that’s not all bad news.
When you are grieving, it can feel so hard to look up, or look around—and as you try to navigate this unfamiliar landscape, you might experience pain and want to retreat. But if you can take a breath, and employ openness and curiosity, you might discover new possibilities hidden in plain sight.
It can feel scary to lose your familiar identity—but as long as you’re alive, there are still more yous waiting to be discovered.
It can feel scary to lose your familiar identity—but as long as you’re alive, there are still more yous waiting to be discovered.
Who Am I Now? A Practice for Exploring Identity
Use this four-step practice to find your footing again after an identity-shifting loss.
Step 1: Investigate. What identity do you want to inhabit? As sad as you may feel about what has ended, what possibilities might there be that weren’t previously available?
Step 2: Explore. What do you need to help you accept your changing identity? If you are not sure, take as much time as you want to ask yourself: could you use a coach or a mentor? A new relationship? A support group? Retraining, or a geographical move? You’re in new territory. This is a great moment to be open and curious.
Keep a list of whatever you stumble across that just might be a piece in the puzzle of your ever-changing identity. What might you want to try, even just for a little while? Your life may be different, but you are still here living it. Dare to dream big. The biggest adventures are all made up of a zillion small, rich, and important steps. Take the adventure to be the fullest version of whoever you are.
The biggest adventures are all made up of a zillion small, rich, and important steps. Take the adventure to be the fullest version of whoever you are.
Step 3: Stabilize. Grief can shake up your thinking, your digestion, and how you react to situations. One way to stabilize is to notice when you feel that you are under stress. Instead of ignoring it, immediately use this as a call to arms—a call to loving arms, that is, as you physically or metaphorically wrap your loving arms around yourself and find a path to calm and grounding.
If you feel trapped by distressing thoughts about the past or the future, you may be able to see that if you could stay in the present, those thoughts would be easier to manage. So what might help you stay in the present? It can include something as simple as counting your breaths, silently or out loud, to give your attention somewhere to land other than in the painful memories of the past, and fearful thoughts about the future. This won’t get rid of anything, but it can help reduce stress by giving you a breather from all the intensity.
You could also explore moving your attention to your feet. Do you notice any sensations of tingling or numbness or contact or heat or itchiness? Do you notice that you have less attention available to be sucked into the land of difficult thoughts when you are trying to pay attention to subtle sensations in the feet?
If focusing on your feet isn’t your bag, you might try something very ordinary, like placing a comforting hand on your stomach, cheek, or chest, or anywhere on your body that makes you feel cared for and supported. Always make the choice to be your own best friend!
Step 4: Welcome the new. It’s not your imagination; your life isn’t what it was, and like it or not, whatever was will never be again—at least, not quite like that.
Feel free to take time to grieve, then recognize that this is a time for boldness. The unknown is what is here. What you get to choose is the way forward. So come on, step out into that awaiting unknown and welcome the identity that offers you the greatest opportunity to explore the constantly renewing present moment.
