Who Am I Now? Identity, Aging, and the Journey of Change

"You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream." — C.S. Lewis.

Exploring the fluid nature of identity, the lessons of aging, and the beauty (and messiness) of becoming.

I used to think identity was a fixed thing—something you figured out and then stuck with. But life, as it turns out, has other plans. It hands you a whole series of plot twists: becoming a parent (or not), losing people you thought would be around forever, falling in love in unexpected ways, living with illness, rediscovering joy—and through it all, you're evolving. You're becoming.

What's surprised me most about growing older is that I am still learning who I am. My identity is fluid. I'm a work in progress—and honestly, I'm okay with that. My circle of friends has grown smaller, but deeper. I've created a chosen family after learning the hard truth that blood doesn't always equal belonging. I've redefined myself over and over again—through parenting, divorce, coming out, living with chronic illness, changing careers, and choosing to live life on my terms. Somewhere along the way, I stopped caring about other people's opinions (because, let's be honest, everyone has one—and most aren't helpful).

When I finally gave myself permission to put myself first—to stop living for everyone else—I started living more fully. More freely. More me.

The Lifespan of Becoming: Identity in Every Chapter

Throughout life, we all hit moments that quietly (or not so quietly) whisper, "Who am I now?" They can show up subtly, or they can knock the wind out of us:

• Leaving high school or university and wondering what comes next.

• Getting married and trying to figure out how to hold onto yourself in a "we."

• Becoming a parent and watching your whole world revolve around a tiny human.

• Watching those tiny humans grow up and leave, and wondering who you are without them.

• Experiencing the heartbreak of miscarriage or fertility challenges.

• Living with chronic illness, physical pain, or mental health challenges that force you to re-evaluate your capacities.

• When a child gets sick. When a parent gets sick. When you get sick.

• Divorce. Job loss. Retirement. Falling in love again. Coming out. Losing someone you love.

Each of these can feel like an emotional earthquake. The ground shifts. Your sense of self shakes. And the questions emerge:

Who am I now? What still matters to me? What do I need to let go of? And who do I want to become next?

Embracing the Self Through Change

Change isn't always graceful. Sometimes it looks like resilience and rebirth. At other times, it looks like sobbing on the bathroom floor, wearing mismatched socks, and questioning everything.

Living with chronic pain has taught me the importance of listening to my body and making space for both rest and joy. But I haven't always embraced it with grace. There were long stretches where I fought my body, denied my needs, and tried to outrun my reality—because who wants to "accept" pain?

If you're there right now—still in the resistance, the grief, the "why me?" stage of any part of your identity shift—that's okay. You don't have to rush to acceptance. You don't have to be graceful or positive all the time. Just be human. That's enough.

And if you've ever felt like you had to be the strong one for everyone else, therapy can be a place to exhale finally. Not to have to be the rock. To say, "I'm hurting. I want to be seen. I'm allowed to fall apart here." Because even rocks need a soft place to land.

Reclaiming Identity on Your Terms

So, how do we continue to evolve when life keeps shifting? Here are a few things I've learned (and am still learning):

You don’t need to have it all figured out. Ever. Growth isn’t linear, and healing isn’t a checklist.

Grieve the old versions of yourself. That younger you? The one with all the dreams before life took its turns? That person still matters. So does who you're becoming.

Reconnect with what lights you up. That hobby you dropped? That dream you shelved? Dust it off. Try it again. Let curiosity lead. Try something new, even if it’s small—take up painting, learn a language, join a walking group. Reconnecting with joy matters.

Telling your story matters, too. Legacy isn’t just what we leave behind—it’s what we live. Share your story. Pass down your wisdom. Let yourself be witnessed.

Build your people. Chosen family. New friends. A support group. People who see the real you and love you through the shifts. Whether it’s intergenerational friendships, long-time confidants, or community groups, connection can remind you of your worth.

Be gentle with your body and mind. Aging comes with shifts. It’s okay to grieve that. It’s also okay to celebrate it. You’re still here. Still growing. Still you.

Celebrate the beauty of aging. You carry stories, scars, and strength. You've lived. That’s powerful.

Reflection Prompts for You:

1. What major life moments have shaped your sense of identity?

2. Are there parts of yourself that you've lost or forgotten, and would like to reconnect with?

3. What does "living for yourself" look like now?

4. How do you want to feel in the next chapter of your life?

5. Who are the people who truly see and support you in your growth?

6. What stories or legacies do you want to share?

Final Thought

Aging isn't about becoming less. It's about becoming more—more honest, more you, more rooted. Even when it's painful, even when it's messy, you're still becoming. You're still worthy.

In my next blog, we will explore how identity can shift after experiencing grief and loss. I hope you’ll join me.