Between Stories: Identity in Transition
When You Find Yourself in the Space Between Who You Were and Who You’re Becoming
There are those of us for whom our job is just a job, even a career. But our identity is not bound up within it. Work is what we do, not who we are. But for others of us, we are our jobs. A huge part of our identity is based on being a doctor or entrepreneur, a full-time stay-at-home parent, the go-to neighbor with the right advice and the right tools. So what happens in retirement? What anchors our sense of self now?
If you are experiencing a crisis of identity because of retirement, divorce, widowhood, medical disabilities, an emptied nest, or some other life-changing event, you are not alone. If you wake up wondering, “Who am I now?” “What is my role, my purpose?” then you are not alone.
You might feel lost, but you are not lost, really. The disorientation is real, and it is a sign that you are in transition. You are in the space between—between who you were and who you’re becoming. Between the life that defined you and the life you’re stepping into now.
The old story—the one where you were a doctor, the ace PTA parent, the go-to neighbor—that story still feels true on the inside. But on the outside, it doesn’t fit anymore. Your days look different. Your role has changed. And now you’re standing in the gap between who you were and who you’re becoming, trying to figure out: What matters to me now?
Maybe “achievement” used to be everything, and now “connection” is knocking on the door. Maybe “independence” is giving way to “community.” Maybe the values that guided you for decades are quietly rearranging themselves, and you’re not sure what comes next.
When the outer life shifts but your inner sense of self hasn’t caught up yet, you feel it. You feel it as restlessness. As grief. As a vague sense that you should know who you are by now—but somehow, you’re not sure anymore.
The discomfort is jarring. It is real. And you can work through it to write the next chapter of your life. This is hard work—the chapter won’t write itself. But it is also a gift, an opportunity to move beyond who you once were and choose who you want to be now.
One client told me, “I know I should enjoy retirement. Everyone tells me how lucky I am. And I am lucky. But I wake up and think, ‘Okay, now what?’ For 25 years, I knew exactly who I was. Now I feel like I’m starting over—and I don’t even know what I’m starting.”
There is a way out of the feeling of loss and lost identity, but it takes time. There is no rush. The way forward starts with questions you might not have answers to yet:
- What matters to me now?
- Who do I want to be without the role that used to define me?
- What do I actually want this next chapter to be about?
- What values do I want to guide me now—even if they’re different from the ones that guided me before?
The answers don’t come all at once. For some people, using a values notebook helps. For others, it’s about allowing yourself the space to explore the questions out loud with a thought partner.
But no matter what method you prefer, remember that clarity often comes slowly. It appears through notes on a page. Through reflection and conversations with a coach. Often, clarity comes by saying things out loud to someone who listens—not to fix you or advise you, but to help you hear yourself.
If you’re reading this and thinking, yes, this is exactly where I am—know this: you’re not alone. You’re not stuck. And you don’t have to figure this out by yourself.
Parker Palmer wrote, “Before I can tell my life what I want to do with it, I must listen to my life telling me who I am.”
If this resonates, let’s talk. I work with women navigating exactly this kind of transition—helping you get clear on who you are now and what you want this next chapter to be about. You can schedule a complimentary discovery session or email me at
You don’t have to have it all figured out to start the conversation. You just have to be ready to ask the questions.