Identities
Identities
Who Are You?
Identity is a funny thing. The way we think of ourselves, how we define ourselves, the story we tell ourselves about who we are, all that comes together to create our identity. And yet we don’t always have a conscious awareness of our identity or even a loss of identity. It often exists in the background, like the soundtrack of a film. We aren’t consciously aware of it until something changes. Seriously, have you ever watched familiar movie clips without the soundtrack? It’s weird.
Okay, back to identity. When we experience a loss, we are often focused on the tangible “things” we lose – the person, the house, the job, the relationship, etc. That’s, of course, a huge part of grief. But there is this other part of grief that we are often less aware of it. It is the secondary losses that happen like dominoes falling, creating far more to cope with than just the primary loss.
We talk about these secondary losses a lot around here and often quickly list them off, throwing in “loss of identity” without saying much more. Today we are going to change that because there is a lot to say and to think about when it comes to loss of identity in grief. It shapes so much of how we exist in the world and research has shown that the
lack of “self-clarity” that comes in grief because of loss of identity is correlated with higher rates of depression and post-traumatic stress. We’re going to talk about different types of identity, how we can experience identity changes or losses, and what to do about it. Spoiler alert: there are no easy answers.
Relational Identity
This is one that quickly comes to mind in grief. It is the piece of my identity that is based on my relationship with another person. So, perhaps I am a sister, a daughter, a wife, a friend, a mother, and on and on. When we lose someone, we often feel we have lost this relational sense of self. We find ourselves asking questions like, who am I if not a wife?
Relational identities change, even with the same person. For instance, when someone becomes ill your role might shift from being a spouse or a child to a caregiver. There are still components of your original role, but you may find that shifting as you take on more responsibilities as a caregiver. When a person dies, caregivers often feel their sense of purpose is less clear. When your relational identity becomes so defined by caring for another person, when that person is gone it can be hard to regain a sense of self.
Additionally, grief can ‘re-write your address book’. Friends shift; a distance may arise between friends or family of the person who died. This can lead to another shift in relational identity, feeling a loss of community and connection to loved ones who are still living.
Loss of Identity
We’ve thrown a ton of information about grief and loss of identity your way. If you’re thinking “yes, this is me!” you may also be thinking “what do I do about it??”. There is no easy answer, but the first thing to keep in mind is your identity will never be what it was before the loss. Like so many things in grief, trying to go back to how things were before the loss just isn’t possible. Part of regaining a sense of self after the loss is accepting that identity is going to be different than it was before.
From there it is important to remember that different doesn’t mean bad. As human beings, we often don’t like change. We have ideas about how life is supposed to look and who we are supposed to be. When life doesn’t pan out that way, it can be easy to assume that no alternative will ever allow us to have a sense of well-being.
Though there will always be a deep sense of grief around the people and things in life that we lose, this does not mean there will not be other things that bring a sense of purpose, joy, and contentment and that will slowly become part of your identity.
Remember, you can bring the past into the present. The person you lost, the person you were, those are all things that will still be a part of you as you go forward. The myth of “letting go” has left many grievers feeling like the healthy way to grieve is to shut the door to the past. As we have said time and time and time again, a continued connection to loved ones, as well as a continued connection to the person we used to be, can be a very healthy part of moving forward.
Finally, take some time to reflect on your identity. Whether it is talking with a friend, a counsellor, writing, art, or some other form of expression, consider how your identity has shifted. Try to focus not just on the losses, but also on gains.
This may be the new relationships that have formed, positive changes in perspective, new skills or growth that have come from changes in professional or physical identity, etc. Though it is easy to focus on the loss of self, rebuilding self-identity can slowly come through an awareness of changes in the self. This means bringing pieces along, acknowledging pieces that will never be the same, and establishing new pieces of the self that are built on things that came before.
Life and death at the limits
Zombies have no psychology. That’s what defines them. They munch contentedly on human flesh from pure residual instinct, not from any vampiric need. The sheriff in George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead, the 1968 shocker that launched the modern genre, explains simply: ‘They’re dead, they’re all messed up.’ He then tells his posse to shoot another gormless ghoul through the head.
You wouldn’t want to talk to any of the anonymous horde of zombies that shuffle through The Walking Dead either. They are low on personality traits. Once you’ve ‘turned’, the self has gone, even if they were family, friend, or lover. This is the post-apocalypse, post-traumatic psychology one must learn.
This is why Daniel Dennett could be so provoking as to invert this logic and declare in Consciousness Explained (1991): ‘We’re all zombies. Nobody is conscious – not in the systematically mysterious way that supports such doctrines as epiphenomenalism.’ The zombie lives on only as a thought experiment in how far psyche can exceed its biological basis.
Yet Romero’s mindless horde of zombies is only a relatively late addition to a long tradition of folklore. Earlier versions of this figure that hovered on the edges of custom, belief and superstition in far-flung colonies. These greatly interested early anthropologists and psychologists. Indeed, the history of the zombie continually cuts across the history of modern psychology in fascinating ways.
Looking back
Those two articles about Zombies and Identity i took the motivation from the society we gare living today. We are living like Zombies and we have lost our isentity.
It is like an alarm clock to remind you we are still humans we have to wake up and live the lufe we suppose to live. Forget the smart phones and forget the AI for a day or two. Start looking who is sitting next to us and try some form of face to face communication.
As humans we are social species we need people in our lives to inspired from to look up to them and slowly as we grow to become leaders to be someone in this world. Forget the smart phone for a week and you will see a different world around you . I love technology but if you let it control you then you are nothing but a smart phone
Professional identity
Phrases like “I am a teacher” or “I am a carpenter” or “I am a doctor” make clear that we often consider our profession as a huge part of who we are. We have knowledge, skills, and expertise related to our jobs. Much of our time is defined by our jobs. We often have a community through our jobs. When we retire, lose or leave a job, even if it is by choice, there is often a loss of our professional identity that can have a profound impact on our sense of self. If I have been a teacher for 40 years, it is an adjustment to conceptualize who I am and what gives my days structure and purpose if I am no longer a teacher.
Sometimes a job loss is the primary loss, but sometimes it is a result of needing to leave the workforce to care for a sick loved one or to relocate after a death. As you can imagine, this can result in multiple identity losses stacking up on one another.
Spiritual identity
Whether a Christian, a Muslim, an atheist, a Buddhist, or just someone who identifies as “spiritual” but not religious, we often have a spiritual identity that can grow, shift, shake, and disappear over a lifetime. This can be because of a death or just at different moments in life. After a loss we hear many people describe everything from a crisis of faith to an increased sense of spirituality.
When it is the former, we often hear people describe a sense that they have lost something that felt fundamental to who they were and hence lost a bit of their footing. Also, with the sense of self as a spiritual person, there is often a sense of community that comes with a religious community that may also be lost, leaving people feeling both the loss their spiritual identity and distanced or isolated from their spiritual community.
Financial Identity
Though we often don’t think of finances as part of our identity, our ability to provide for ourselves and our family financially is often an important component of our sense of self. Whether it is a constant state of financial struggle or pride in strong financial independence, we often have an expectation about what our financial identity is and should be. Illnesses and deaths can have a deep impact on financial identity.
From overwhelming healthcare costs to leaving a job to become a caregiver, to a dual income household becoming single income, death can rattle our sense of financial security and independence and create a financial loss of identity. On the other end of the spectrum, life insurance or inheritance after a death can improve financial security and, though this may sound like exclusively a good change to financial identity, for some people it leads to feelings of guilt after a death.
Physical Identity
Much like financial identity is often correlated with our ability to provide for ourselves and our families, physical identity often defines how we are capable of physically existing in the world. In basic ways, like having the luxury to work any type of job, play with children, go for a walk or to the gym, and move free from pain, our physical self is fundamental to much our daily life. For some, the physical is even more significant – people who identify as athletes or who use a lot of physical movement in their work are often even more deeply connected to their physical selves.
An illness, injury, and even aging can take a serious toll on the physical self, leading people a physical loss of identity that can sometimes be accompanied by a loss of self-worth. This is something we may struggle with ourselves or watch a loved one struggle with as an illness progresses.
Outlook
Though this can be harder to label, our outlook or perspective on the world can be deeply connected to our identity and it can also be shaken by a trauma or loss. Whether it is the belief that the world is a fair and just place, a general optimistic perspective, being a ‘happy person, or a feeling that the world is predictable or safe, our lens through which we see the world has a deep impact on our identity.
A significant death or trauma can shake these assumptive beliefs about the world, leaving people sometimes feeling more negative, jaded, pessimistic, or unable to engage with other people or activities the way they used to. This can result in an identity change or loss that feels difficult to reconcile.
Change of appearance in later life
If you acquire your visible difference or disfigurement later in life, this can shake your internal body image, and you may experience a strong loss of identity. This can have a big impact on your health, affect your feelings of femininity, masculinity or your sense of who you are, which may to some extent be tied to your appearance. Studies suggest that people who acquire a visible difference later in life – particularly after puberty – tend to find it harder to adjust to a change in body image and self-concept. You may find yourself contrasting your “new” appearance with your what you think of as your “real” self.
You may also feel as if you have lost control over your life, your relationships or your work. You may have a strong sense that you are perceived differently now to how you were prior to acquiring your visible difference. You may also find yourself subject to questions, comments and staring. This can make everyday activities and encounters with others challenging and you may find it harder to develop relationships and make friends. These changes can affect your sense of self, particularly if they are things, you found effortless before acquiring your visible difference.
What makes up our identity
Along with our self-concept (our internal sense of ourselves) we also develop our identity through our occupation, how we spend our time, our favourite things, our relationships, and who we are to other people (e.g. a partner or a parent). If you are having treatment or surgery, sometimes it feels like your identity becomes that of “the patient” so it can be important to remind yourself of all the other features that make up your identity, outside of your visible difference.
Accepting loss
You might find it hard to believe that you will ever overcome these feelings, but as grief progresses, most people slowly adjust and accept what has happened.
It is important to remember that acceptance does not mean you have to be happy about what has happened to you, or your visible difference – acceptance is an understanding that this is the way things are and about building a life for yourself taking this into account.
This might mean accepting that you might not be able to play sport if you have difficulty with movement – but you might start to look at other hobbies and interests. You don’t have to be happy that you gave up sport – this might feel very difficult and sad, but exploring a new hobby or interest can be exciting and fulfilling.
