When I talk about why I started Mindful Return 10+ years ago, “identity crisis” is always part of the conversation.  Here I was, a competent and successful health care lawyer and policy person who thought she knew which end was up.  And then suddenly, I was at ground zero. 

I had a baby I didn’t know how to get to take a nap and who refused a bottle.  I couldn’t figure out how to fit all the things into the day.  Suddenly, I couldn’t stay at the office “as long as it took” in the evenings, because daycare closed at 5:45pm and charged us $10/minute for being late.  I stopped going to my monthly book club meetings and playing my violin.

Yes, I loved so many things about becoming a mother – and still do – and I was profoundly disoriented.  Have you ever thought you knew who you were, only to have that identity either shaken, stirred, or ripped apart completely?  If you’ve lived long enough to be reading this, my guess is your answer is yes.

In the wake of the breast cancer diagnosis that I shared on social media last week, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about identity shifts.  Out of nowhere, I am suddenly a “cancer patient.”  Huh?  Who?  Me?  I’m supposedly a “survivor” who is now “fighting a battle.”  I suddenly belong in all sorts of amazingly beautiful support groups I never identified with in the past.  And I found myself musing at how volatile our own identities can be, even though we – or at least I – tend to think of them as relatively stable things.

I haven’t done any research on scholarly studies of identity (I’ve been too mired in double mastectomy recovery tips!), but it strikes me there are at least two distinct categories of identity.  Those foisted upon us, and those we choose.  Even those two are probably muddled at times.  I was born female, Pennsylvanian, and redhead.  But I chose violinist, Francophile, and lawyer.  I was born Catholic but chose to be Jewish.  I chose wife, DC resident, and entrepreneur.  And I also chose mother, though I’m aware that some people who became parents didn’t have a choice in the matter.  I definitely did not choose child of an alcoholic, orphan, or parent of children with mental health challenges.  But I definitely did choose author, adult adoptee, and friend.

The new cancer diagnosis left me puzzled about my own connection to this new identity.  The cancer was in my body before the mammogram and ultrasound discovered it.  So technically, I was a “cancer survivor” before I knew I was.  Which makes me wonder whether there’s anything inherent about identity, or whether it’s all really just a matter of creation and perception.

What I’ve found to be very real, though, is that the extent to which any of us adopts or embraces a particular identity affects the types of support we can receive and communities we can connect with.  If I didn’t raise my hand as “cancer patient” I wouldn’t be in the WhatsApp group that’s been my lifeline these past few weeks.  If I hadn’t embraced “working mom” as an identity, I wouldn’t be surrounded by a community of amazingly generous parents who are overwhelming me with love and support right now.

I suspect that when we hesitate to embrace an identity that does actually fit us, it may be because we fear how others will perceive that identity.  If I embrace “parent” while I’m at work, will my colleagues still respect my professional commitment?  If I embrace “career driven professional” at home and in my community, will others judge my commitment to parenthood?

In my own journey these past few weeks, I’ve decided to work on changing my own perceptions around identity in two ways.  First, I’m going to drop the expectation that identity is ever static.  That who I am today is necessarily who I’m going to be tomorrow.  By the time I reach the end of my life (hopefully MANY years from now!), I bet I will have adopted dozens if not hundreds of identities I can’t even imagine right now.  And second, I’m working on not paying as much attention to how others perceive my identities.  I’m reminding myself frequently that what others think is outside of my control.  Instead, I’m focusing on more deeply embracing both the identities I choose – as well as those I’ve been handed – with all the gusto required by this wild roller coaster of a life.

Want more practical tips on working parenthood?  Check out my book, Back to Work After Baby: How to Plan and Navigate a Mindful Return from Maternity Leave