Who am I now? When life changes and you don’t recognize yourself
There are moments when life doesn’t just change around you—it changes you. Not all at once. But slowly, quietly… just enough that you don’t notice until you no longer recognize yourself inside your own life.
That’s the moment I found myself in when an old journal stopped me cold. I wasn’t looking for anything meaningful. I was searching for something practical, flipping pages quickly, focused on the task at hand. Then I saw it—a bright pink sticky note pressed between two pages.
Three words.
Who are you?
Not who do you serve.
Not what do you manage.
Not what are you holding together.
Who are you—now?
I’ve asked myself that question before. Years ago, it marked the beginning of my healing journey, long before this podcast, the book, or anything I’ve built since. Back then, I couldn’t answer it. I could list my roles, my responsibilities, my goals, and everything I was trying to prove—but not who I was beneath it all.
What surprised me wasn’t seeing the question again. It was how deeply it spoke to this current season.
This past year unraveled my life in ways I didn’t see coming. Grief, loss, and betrayal have a way of shattering the foundations you assumed would always hold. And when everything familiar falls apart, you don’t just grieve what you lost—you grieve the version of yourself who lived there.
That’s the part no one prepares you for.
You keep showing up because people still need you. You keep functioning because life doesn’t pause. But inside, something shifts. Slowly, subtly, you begin to disappear—not outwardly, but internally. Your needs move to the bottom of the list. Your faith feels harder to access. Your body carries more than it should.
You tell yourself, Once we get through this, I’ll come back to myself.
But “after this” keeps moving.
This is the messy middle no one talks about—the space where you are no longer who you were, but you don’t yet know who you’re becoming. It’s disorienting, and lonely. And if you don’t have the words or language to articulate it, or structure for it, it can keep you stuck longer than necessary.
Here’s what I’m learning in real time: you cannot cling to what was and fully step into what’s next at the same time. What we refuse to release eventually begins to define us.
And I don’t want a life shaped by what broke me. I want a life rebuilt through healing, surrender, and truth.
3 Steps to Support Yourself in a Season of Becoming
Tell the truth about where you are.
Not the polished version. The real one. Exhaustion, numbness, grief, fear—none of these disqualify you. They are signals. Healing starts when you stop negotiating with reality.
Stop postponing your own restoration.
Waiting for life to calm down before you take care of yourself keeps you stuck. Seasons don’t resolve themselves. People decide to move through them.
Release what can’t come with you.
Old identities, coping patterns, and survival roles may have protected you once, but they will not carry you forward. Becoming requires letting go.
3 Points to Ponder
Where have I been surviving instead of rebuilding?
What version of myself am I still clinging to out of fear?
What would change if I stopped trying to muscle my way through this season?
Scripture for the Soul
“You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good. He brought me to this position so I could save the lives of many people” — Genesis 50:20
This verse matters because it refuses to pretend the harm didn’t happen, and it also refuses to believe harm gets the final word. Joseph names what was meant to destroy him, and still trusts that God is working beyond what he can see. In seasons of grief and transition, when the story feels unfinished and the ground feels unsteady, this is the reminder that redemption can coexist with heartbreak—and that God can shape meaning from what tried to break you.
This truth has become an anchor for me, not because the story is neat or finished, but because redemption is possible even here. Faith doesn’t erase the pain, but it keeps me from calling this season pointless.
This Week on The Confident Woman Podcast
Who Are You? Navigating Identity, Grief, and the Messy Middle
In this solo episode, I share the story behind that pink sticky note and the season it pulled me back into. We talk about losing yourself while holding everything together, the danger of waiting too long to rebuild, and why identity work cannot be postponed without cost.
If you’ve been functioning but not fully living, this conversation will meet you where you are—and invite you forward. → Listen here
Ready to Go Deeper?
If you recognized yourself in this message, here’s the honest truth: insight alone won’t carry you through this season. Reflection without structure turns into circling.
I Am… Becoming exists so you don’t have to do this alone or guess your way forward. It’s a six-week guided identity journey created from inside the fire, not from a distance. It provides direction, prompts, scripture, and structure for women who are ready to stop disappearing and start rebuilding.
If you’re tired of surviving and ready to move, this is your next step.
Words of Encouragement
Feeling unfamiliar to yourself doesn’t mean you’re lost. It means something is changing. You don’t have to rush clarity—but you do have to choose movement. Becoming doesn’t happen by waiting. It happens when you decide to engage the work this season is asking of you.
XO,
P.S. If this spoke to you, don’t just sit with it. Share it with a woman who’s quietly asking the same question.
P.P.S. If you’re in the messy middle and you need something gentle to hold you today, start with the I Am… Enough Reset. You don’t have to do the whole journey at once to take one faithful step.
Work With Me
If you’re ready for personalized support beyond this journey, you can explore ways to work with me here.
→ Explore your next step