The Structure Isn't You: What Happens to Identity When Everything Falls Apart
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read
There's a question most of us ask when life blows something up: When will things go back to normal?
It's a reasonable question. Normal feels solid. It feels like ground you can return to. But in episode 2 of Purpose, not Pity, I sits with a harder one: what if normal was never the ground? What if it was just structure?
The architecture nobody talks about
We move through our days on autopilot most of the time, and that's not a bad thing. The alarm goes off, we follow the routine, we show up where we're expected. And when someone asks who we are, we have an answer ready. Job title. Role. Relationship. The thing we're known for.
The problem is that over time, that rhythm stops being something we do and starts being who we think we are. Not because we chose it consciously. Because it was consistent, recognizable. It gave us something to point to.
When it's gone, it's not just your schedule that's empty. It's your answer to the question who am I?
Disorientation is data, not damage
On this episode, I talk about the first day after losing her job; the relief, the exhale, the finally. And then day five. Lost. Not because I wasn't capable, but because the structure that had been quietly organizing my sense of self wasn't there anymore.
I describe it as being mapless. And when you don't have a map, you don't move faster; you slow down, you second-guess, you figure it out as you go.
The disorientation most people feel after a major loss isn't a sign something is wrong with them. It's showing them how much of their identity was being held up by something outside of themselves. That's not failure. That's information.
The shame nobody's talking about
Underneath the confusion is something quieter and harder to look at. SHAME. Not the loud, performative kind. The kind that sounds like I'm too old for this or I thought I was past this or I had this figured out.
It doesn't need an audience. It just needs you alone in the quiet, deciding whether you're going to perform your way through it or actually look at it.
For me, the choice was to stop performing. Not with a clear plan. Not perfectly. But forward.
Some losses don't let you go back
There's a moment in the episode that lands differently from everything else. I said that for some people, going back isn't a direction anymore. Some losses don't just take something from you, they also take the version of you that existed before them. And when that's true, the only option is to go through.
I know this from carrying two losses at once: the loss of her son, and more recently, my job. When the ground moved again just as she was finding her footing, it hit somewhere that was already tender.
But what I've learned from both is this: when you strip away the title, the role, the routine, what's left is the part of you that thinks, decides, keeps showing up. That version wasn't new. It was always there, just covered up.
What she wants you to sit with
If you're in the middle of it right now, I'm not asking you to fix it fast. I'm asking you to sit with what's still here, not what you lost, not what changed, but what remains.
The person who keeps showing up, even when nothing has a title yet? That person was always there.
This episode isn't about falling apart. It's about finally seeing what was underneath it the whole time.
Listen to Episode 2 of Purpose, Not Pity wherever you get your podcasts.
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