Indentity crisis….or opportunity?

There’s something one goes through when you finally send a child off to college. I’ve been calling it a review period. Did I do all the things I meant to do? Did I impart all the lessons, all the wisdom, all the skills? Are they equipped? Did I mess it all up? What things are they taking to therapy? If I could start over I would do it all so differently…. And yet, here we are. There they go. And also, I know they are fine. Great, even. Human and spectacular and flawed. Like me. Like all of us.

I’m finding that something similar but altogether different is happening as I prepare to send my last child to college. Yes, there’s the familiar review and regret and hope and satisfaction. Fear and excitement. Pride and protectiveness. 

But something else is happening as well. And it’s not as simple as having an empty nest. It feels like a shift of identity. It’s not that I’ve been a parent for all these years and suddenly that role is changing. In fact, everything is changing about who I’ve been.

For the last fifteen years I have been a divorced mother of three, sole breadwinner, corporate executive, mostly fueled by rage and ambition, driven by searing love and crushing responsibility for the tiny souls in my care. Outraged that it was all so hard, felt so precarious, so proud that we did it, so grateful for the village that helped. I couldn’t have done anything without my rock, Katie McDugald, who sang her way into our lives the same time as the divorce and indeed helped to raise these kids, becoming a friend, co-parent, family.

I arrived at the beginning of 2023 burned out, exhausted, laid off. Soon after, I broke my wrist and had surgery. I was also newly married, but long distance, so still effectively a single mother. I had a lot of time to sit still and contemplate my life. I have always had a side hustle, even when fully employed and especially when between jobs, so this was the first time I allowed myself to do nothing. Take some space. I bemoaned to friends the fact that ambition dies and burnout sets up camp about a decade before retirement is a possibility. We still have to get these kids through college, which even in the best of circumstances is an untenable expense and exercise in the inequity we fight so hard against. But also, I’m not brave enough to embrace an alternate system which hasn’t emerged or been proven out yet.

So that left me with the feeling I had to go once more into the corporate breach. Get everyone through college. My mantra was “it’s only for the money and it’s only for a while.” My criteria was “a job I’m good at, nice people, good salary.” I talked myself into going back into a former career I no longer had much passion for but knew I could do. I had the privilege of knowing I could make some phone calls and secure a good job. My husband and therapist were both quite relieved I had gotten my head around this plan. 

So I made some inquiries. I got an offer. Some wild things happened and it all imploded. The relief that flooded my body could not be ignored. What was I doing? Why was I trying to convince myself to take on a role that just wasn’t for me anymore? If I was that good of an actor, I would have been an actor.

I thought about all of the roles I’ve had - VP of Sales, trusted client advisor, production finance executive, DEI director, consultant, podcaster. What parts did I like? What did I care about? It became clear that the common thread was the people. As a podcaster, I get to have intimate conversations with all kinds of people, understanding what drives them and what gets in their way. What are their dreams and how are they reaching them? My favorite phone calls from friends are when they are negotiating a raise or a new job and want to talk it through. Seeing people step into their potential and their power brings me such joy. Helping people do their jobs better was always the best part of my job. 

Many people over the last few years have asked me if I ever considered being an executive coach. The answer was always yes, but I couldn’t imagine how to find the time to make that happen. Well, life recently conspired to give me the time to make it happen. I am grateful for the privilege that has allowed this. So, here we are.

A new identity. More than what will I do now, my question is who will I be now? My nest will be empty by fall. I have a whole husband who I will now get to live with, at least most of the time. I have left the corporate grind. I’m in the middle of deep training and credentialing to be an executive/leadership/transitional coach. I am laying down the sword. I’m working on being fueled by love instead of rage. Embracing vulnerability rather than armor. For a visual, fifteen years ago I related to the phoenix rising from the ashes. Now, it feels more like the gentle opening of a flower.  

As the last chapter comes to a close, the next is unfolding in surprising and gentle and beautiful ways. 

Now, let’s talk about you. I’d love to walk with you on your path.