For the past two weeks, we've been asking some unsettling questions. First: What if you aren't who you think you are? Then: If you're not who you thought you were, who are you?
Along the way, we've looked at how much of our identity comes from things we never consciously chose: the labels we were handed, the roles we learned to play, and the stories we absorbed about who we are, what we're capable of, and what we're allowed to want. We've also noticed what tends to happen when those stories loosen. We grab the nearest replacement, usually the opposite, and discover that it doesn't fit either. Something truer shows up gradually, and it tends to feel like ease.
Now we get to do something that might feel a little radical. We're going to choose.
Who do you want to become? Not who you think you should be, or who your parents wanted you to be, or who your partner needs you to be, or who society says you ought to be. Who do you want to become?
You aren't manufacturing a new persona from scratch. You're saying yes to something already stirring in you: a value you recognize, a quality you've caught glimpses of, a way of being that has felt like ease. Choosing, as I mean it here, is a way of taking part in who you're becoming. Last week I said that nobody decides who you are by decree, and I still believe that.
Wait. I Can Just Choose?
Yes, and it's a little more complicated than that. If you've spent forty, fifty, or sixty years believing you're a certain kind of person, you probably won't wake up tomorrow feeling like someone completely different. Your mind gets a vote, and it will use it.
Say you've spent most of your life believing you aren't particularly brave. You avoid confrontation, hesitate to try new things, and spend a lot of time imagining everything that could go wrong. Now you're considering the possibility of becoming someone courageous, and your brain has a few things to say about that: Excuse me? Have we MET? You know we're terrified of confrontation, right? Remember what happened the last time we tried something new? I know those voices well, and I suspect you do too.
Here's something worth considering. Courage can live right alongside fear. It's something you can practice while fear sits beside you. You don't have to become fearless to begin identifying as someone who is courageous. You can be afraid and brave at the same time.
You're also probably not starting from zero. Think back to the times you acted with courage while terrified out of your mind. Those moments are evidence, and they belong to you.
Here's one of mine. When I chose to build a counseling practice around bringing spirituality and counseling together, I knew how it might look. I knew some people might not take my work seriously (too “woo-woo”). I made that choice with the risk sitting right beside me, without waiting for anyone's approval or for proof that it would work. I simply decided to be someone who did this work, and I let my choices follow.
You Don't Have to Earn Your New Identity
This is where so many of us get stuck. We believe we have to accomplish something before we're allowed to become the person who accomplishes it. I'll be confident once I've succeeded. I'll be worthy once I've proven myself. I'll be generous when I have more money and peaceful when my life settles down. I'll trust myself when I stop making mistakes. And so we wait, looking for evidence that we're finally allowed to think differently about ourselves.
But what if we've got it backwards? What if you begin by choosing to see yourself differently, and let your choices, behaviors, and experiences grow from that identity?
Consider someone who identifies as a creative person. They don't create something extraordinary every day. Some days the work is terrible, and some days they spend three hours staring at a blank page wondering why they ever thought they could do this. They still consider themselves creative. Their identity doesn't depend on how a given day goes, because it rests on something they care about rather than on a performance. Remember, there's no checkbox next to curiosity, and the same is true of trust, peace, and love. You never finish them. You live them. What if you offered yourself that same permission?
You could say, I'm someone who is learning to trust myself, on a day when you're full of doubt. You could identify as someone who is building a calmer relationship with money while you're still learning to feel safe around it. You could choose to be someone who loves themselves without first fixing everything you believe is wrong with you. Notice the wording. These statements are honest. They don't claim you've arrived. They name a direction, and they say you're standing in it.
But What About the Parts of Me That Disagree?
Oh, they're going to have opinions. 😂 You've probably noticed that we don't always agree with ourselves. I think of these voices as parts: different sides of us, each with its own history and its own job.
One part of you may be thrilled at the idea of becoming someone who speaks up, takes risks, receives love, or allows themselves to be seen. Another may be quietly losing its mind, because even an uncomfortable or limiting identity is familiar, and familiar often feels safer than unknown. Perhaps one part learned that it was dangerous to speak up. Another believes that wanting more makes you selfish. Another is convinced that if you stop trying so hard to be good enough, everything will fall apart. Those parts aren't likely to celebrate your decision, and that's okay. They've been working on your behalf in the best way they knew how.
You don't have to get every part of yourself to agree before you begin. You can listen to their concerns, appreciate the ways they've tried to protect you, and offer them reassurance and compassion. Notice who is doing the listening. The part of you that can hear every one of those voices without being taken over by any of them is the part that gets to choose.
There's no need to declare war on your old identity or to shame yourself for what you believed and how you behaved. You were doing the best you could with what you understood at the time. Now you understand something more, and you have choices.
Becoming Is a Practice
Here's where I want to offer a word of caution. Choosing who you want to become doesn't mean pretending to be someone you're not, ignoring your circumstances, or insisting that everything is wonderful when it clearly isn't. And it certainly doesn't mean beating yourself up each time you fall back into an old pattern. You will, of course. You've practiced that old identity for a very long time, and those familiar thoughts and reactions won't disappear just because you've made a new decision. Like everything else we've talked about, this unfolds slowly, and not in a straight line.
But what if those moments aren't evidence that you haven't changed? What if they're opportunities to practice?
There's research on this that I find helpful. When an action feels consistent with who we see ourselves to be, we tend to read difficulty as a sign that the action matters. When it doesn't feel like us, the same difficulty looks like proof that we should quit (Oyserman & Destin, 2010). So when you stumble on the way to becoming someone you've chosen, you can learn to interpret that difficulty as part of doing something worthwhile, rather than proof that you should stop.
Say you want to become someone who trusts themselves, and you catch yourself second-guessing a decision. Instead of concluding, See? I knew I wasn't capable of this, you might ask, What would someone who trusts themselves believe about this situation? Say you want to become someone who lives with greater peace, and something happens that has you reacting with frustration or anger. Instead of deciding you've failed, you might ask, How could I respond to myself with a little more peace right now? Or say you want to become someone who receives love easily, and someone pays you a compliment that you immediately wave away. Maybe this time you notice. Maybe you smile. Maybe you say thank you.
That's it. No dramatic transformation required, only a willingness to practice being someone you've consciously chosen to become.
Let's Try Something
I'd love for you to spend a few minutes with this question: Who do I want to become?
Before you answer, notice whether your mind immediately starts listing things you want to HAVE: more money, a better relationship, a different job, a healthier body, more time, more freedom. There's nothing wrong with wanting those. For this exercise, we'll set outcomes aside and focus on being. Perhaps you want to become someone who:
trusts themselves
experiences joy without guilt
feels comfortable being seen
believes they are worthy of love
As you consider your answer, run it through the fit test from last week. Does it feel spacious, or does it arrive with a should attached? Does it feel like something you want, or something you think you're supposed to want?
Then choose one. Just one. And ask yourself: What would it be like to think of myself as someone committed to this, practicing it imperfectly, right in the middle of my life as it is today?
Notice what comes up. Maybe excitement, maybe resistance, maybe a little voice saying, Yeah, right. You don't have to make any of it go away. Just get curious. And perhaps, sometime this week, you'll find yourself in a moment where you can experiment with your chosen identity, with no need to prove anything, just to see what happens.
You Get to Choose
I want to leave you with one last thought. You are not obligated to remain the person you learned to be. You can appreciate the ways your old identities helped you survive, belong, succeed, or feel safe. You can honor the person you've been and still choose to become someone different. Nothing has to be wrong with who you are today for you to do that. You simply have the freedom to explore who else you might be.
Who would you choose to become if you didn't have to prove anything first?
That's where BE becomes yours. Next week, we'll explore what happens when the things we DO begin to flow from who we've chosen to BE.
Reference: Oyserman, D., & Destin, M. (2010). Identity-based motivation: Implications for intervention. The Counseling Psychologist, 38(7), 1001–1043.
If this conversation has you curious about what becomes possible when you begin with identity instead of trying to change your circumstances through sheer effort, I'd love to invite you to join me for BE • DO • HAVE, a three-part live online experience in January 2027. We'll explore what it means to consciously choose who you're becoming, allow your actions to grow from that identity, and become more open to receiving what you desire.
January 16, 23 & 30 | 10:30 AM–12:30 PM Eastern