For some stupid reason, a lot of us are terrified of changing our identity.
We cling to who we’ve always been — even when it’s a version of us that doesn’t fit anymore.
It’s like wearing a jumper that used to be your favourite, but now it just itches and pulls in all the wrong places.
But we still wear it, because it’s familiar.
We know who we are in that old jumper.
We know the role, the title, the label.
“I’m the one who works in that office.”
“I’m the one behind the counter.”
“I’m the one stacking shelves.”
That was me.
The shelf-stacker.
That was my identity for years — and honestly, I was comfortable with it.
But the idea of changing that identity?
To see myself as a writer?
That felt ridiculous. Like saying I wanted to live on Mars.
Writers were from a different planet. They had talent, they had confidence, they had something I didn’t.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
So I stayed where I was.
Because comfort feels safer than possibility — even when possibility is exactly what we want.
And maybe that’s where you are right now.
You want to start something new.
Maybe a podcast. A newsletter. A small business.
But saying it out loud makes you squirm.
Because the moment you say, “I’m going to be a writer,” or “I’m starting a business,” people might laugh.
Or worse — they might roll their eyes and say nothing at all.
So you keep the dream to yourself, because you don’t want to look silly.
You don’t want to sound like you’re having a midlife crisis.
But here’s the thing: the only crisis is staying stuck in an identity that stopped fitting years ago.
We think our identity is fixed — that who we are right now is who we’ll always be.
But that’s rubbish.
You’ve already had hundreds of identities.
You used to be a child.
Then you were a teenager.
Then maybe a partner, a parent, a worker, a dreamer, a survivor.
Your identity has shifted every time life handed you a new chapter.
So why stop now?
If you woke up tomorrow with amnesia, you wouldn’t know who you were supposed to be.
You’d pick something that excited you.
You’d go in a new direction without hesitation.
That’s the truth of it — we only stay stuck because we remember who we’ve been.
We mistake that for who we have to be.
Look at someone like David Bowie.
That man changed identities like most people change socks.
Ziggy Stardust, The Thin White Duke, and everything in between.
Each version was different. Each version worked.
Because he allowed himself to evolve — to shed the skin that no longer fit.
That’s what we need to do too.
You’re not your job title.
You’re not your last payslip.
You’re not who other people think you are.
You’re whoever you decide to become next.
So don’t be afraid to say it out loud:
“I’m going to be a writer.”
“I’m starting something new.”
“I’m becoming someone else.”
It might feel cringy at first. It might make you squirm. But that’s the sound of growth.
The people who matter will cheer you on. The rest were never your audience anyway.
You get one go at this life — don’t spend it playing a character someone else wrote for you.
Change your identity.
Change your story.
Be your own Bowie.
Because once you stop clinging to who you’ve been, you’ll finally have room to become who you’re meant to be.
And that’s when things start to get interesting.
- Barry.