What my mid-life identity shift looked like

I retraced the moments in my head.

Dressing up at home, I looked forward to the evening. In just a few hours, I was dangling my legs over a stream. Soon after, I jumped into the pool; getting into my swimwear needed no coaxing. When a song I liked played, I found myself doing a ‘little jig’, unbeknownst to how it looked or who was looking. I joined in for a game of table tennis. When my topspin was on point, my cheers were boisterous. When I missed a sitter, the jeers got me laughing.

The evening felt light. I felt content. But what exactly had been different?

For as long as I can remember, I have always been passionate about my academic and professional life. Over nearly two decades, I have built and straddled many professional identities — doctor, scientist, educator, leader — and for each role and opportunity, I have given it my all. At each stage, the circle of people I interacted with consisted almost entirely of other doctors, scientists, and educators. I did wear personal hats such as mother, wife, and daughter, but even with those, my professional identities loomed large and dominant.

Consequently, when planted in social settings, such as an evening with friends, I would find myself without my moorings. Very quickly, and no sooner after the initial pleasantries, I found myself struggling to make small talk. What do I talk about, if not medicine or science? I found it hard to go along with the flow of the evening. How could I just ‘be’ without my professional identity? When a new acquaintance asked, ‘What do you do?’ or an old friend enquired, ‘How is work going?’, it would bring forth a mix of relief and anxiety. I could finally bring the conversation to my comfort zone, my work, yet soon after, my mind would be ablaze with conflicting thoughts: what would they be thinking about what I said? Did I speak too much about my work?

Then, a little over a year ago, I decided to quit full-time employment, write a book for girls in science, and start my own medical and scientific consultancy practice. What this meant almost immediately was that I started spending more time at home. My days involved writing my book and building my consultancy, but also planning meals with more attention and prepping breakfasts. As the days chugged on, I became a ‘more present’ parent and partner. Long conversations with my teenage son. Interesting coffee concoctions —  with my husband. A year in, I was a renewed person. Rekindled connections with old friends (from school and college, that is). Gym time, not merely to keep the scales in check, but also to genuinely care for myself. Instagram. Reading. And all this while my book was published, and I signed on a handful of consultancy projects. However, I noticed — both in the way I viewed and approached them — that my professional pursuits were now just another facet of my life.

So, what exactly had shifted?

As I reflected, I determined that the ‘shift’ was in essence a rebalancing of my identities. While my career had given me a deep sense of purpose and direction, it, over the years,  had become my dominant identity. So much so that I struggled to draw out the ‘person’ I was in social and casual settings — an effect that left me feeling lost. A quick Google search helped me understand. ‘Career enmeshment’ is the consequence of investing a disproportionate amount of time and energy in one’s career. Among other signs of this is finding it harder to connect with people who are not a part of one’s work life.

Moving on from a full-time role and not having a conventional job title had helped me undo this enmeshment. The result was that my all-dominating professional identity had shrunk back. My personal identities, and above all, the ‘person’ I am, had the opportunity to share space. Spending time and energy away from work meant that drawing out the ‘person’ in me did not need ‘work’. I entered social settings as an extension of the person I was. And that is what that looked like that evening — ease, spontaneity, and that ‘jig’ even if the whole world was looking.

I have often introduced myself as someone who ‘wears many hats …’, a tip-off to the many professional identities I have built. Yet, as I discovered at the cusp of mid-life, my biggest identity shift was a rebalancing that brought forth the ‘person’ within.

Kaushik is a physician and scientist

Editor (Planning & Projects) Shalini Langer curates the fortnightly ‘She Said’ column