🪞Identity: What's true?

Remembering who you (and your kids) really are beyond the roles you hold.

It’s easy to lose track of our truest identity. As parents, we know how quickly life can become a series of labels. We introduce our kids at playdates or family gatherings with the shorthand of who they are—“This is my athlete¹,” “my artist,” “my bookworm.”

Without realizing it, we define our children by their interests and abilities. It’s only a small step from there to defining ourselves by our children’s identities.

I see parents of kids with disabilities who make their children’s diagnosis their identity. I see parents of athletes who make their kids’ sports their identity.

Beyond parenting, I see people make their politics, their social status, their job, their hobby, or even their cynicism, their identity. I say this not to shame us, but to underscore that it’s part of the human condition to do this. And there can be good things! It helps us find belonging! It helps us feel seen and known!

But there’s a shadow side…our lens on the world gets smaller and smaller, until we see everything through this one defining trait. And when that identity is threatened, it can feel like a personal earthquake.

Photo by Noah Buscher on Unsplash

I’m a mother to a child who has Down syndrome.
But “Down Syndrome Mom” is not my core identity.
I’m a mother by adoption.
But “adoptive mom” is not my core identity.
I’m a mother to kids who play sports,
But “sports mom” is not my core identity.
I’m a mother to four kids, three of them boys,
But “boy mom” is not my core identity.

In fact, mom is not my core identity at all.

I think about retirees who panic when their identity as a worker or provider is lost.
I think about ones in midlife who cling to the identity of youth as the years slip by.
I think about those whose sense of worth is wrapped up in a relationship, title, or job. 

Maybe we’re so compelled by shows like Schitt’s Creek because they explore what happens to a family when they lose their core identity. (In this case, when a family of immense wealth has that wealth stripped away, and they are left with only each other and themselves.)

When all the trappings are gone, who are you?

As parents, this question matters. We can be so eager to place not just ourselves but our kids into camps and categories, sealing their identities with every: “This is my athlete, this is my artist, this is my musician.” But what happens when your daughter gets an injury and can’t play sports? Now she’s no longer a dancer, and you’re no longer a “dance mom.”

Who, actually, are you?

I asked my eighth grader what the truest thing about him was, and without hesitation, he said, “kind.” As adults, we’re often asked, “What do you do?” It’s one of the first things we say when we meet someone new, a quick way to categorize and define. But I think our core attachment to identities reveals our core fears.

If I identify only as a mother, then my deepest fear is something happening to my kids.
If I identify only as a writer, then my deepest fear is being unable to create.
If I identify only as a spiritual director, then my deepest fear is a crisis of faith.

These identities aren’t inherently bad. They shape us and influence us. But they aren’t the truest thing about us. (Keep reading for the paid portion for five reflection questions to help you identify some of the core identities you gravitate toward in your life.)

Kirsten Powers

recently wrote:

“It’s sad that the last part — ‘build an identity separate from your work’ — needs to be said at all but it does. Even in boom times, your job still should never be your identity (and yes this includes if it’s your ‘calling.’) When you do this, you are building your house on sand.”

The work of letting go of false identities is core work, the kind of deep, muscle-building work that keeps us grounded when the storms come. In Matthew 7, Jesus tells a parable about two builders: One who built his house on rock, the other on sand. One endured the storms…and one didn’t.

“These words I speak to you are not incidental additions to your life, homeowner improvements to your standard of living. They are foundational words, words to build a life on. If you work these words into your life, you are like a smart carpenter who built his house on solid rock. Rain poured down, the river flooded, a tornado hit—but nothing moved that house. It was fixed to the rock.

But if you just use my words in Bible studies and don’t work them into your life, you are like a foolish carpenter who built his house on the sandy beach. When a storm rolled in and the waves came up, it collapsed like a house of cards.”

(Matthew 7:24-27, MSG)

In Every Season Sacred, I write about a moment with two of my sons, sitting cross-legged on their bedroom floor after an argument. I looked into their eyes, sticky and sweaty and full of fierce, young emotion, and reminded them of the truest thing I know:

“The truest thing about you is that you are a beloved child of God.”

All too often, we have spiritual amnesia. We’re prone to forget who we are—and the One who calls us beloved. This leads us down paths far from the peace God holds out for us.

What if we made that the core of our identity? What if we grounded ourselves in that truth and let everything else flow from it?

Because no matter what season we find ourselves in—whether our kids are small and needy or grown and independent, whether our careers are thriving or on the brink of change—the truest thing about us is not our work, our roles, or even our relationships.

It is that we are beloved.

Pray this With Your Family

From page 31 of Every Season Sacred.

God of heaven and earth,
We thank You for the ways
You pursue us,
For the ways You
Beckon us into
Your loving arms
And call us Your children.
Strengthen our commitments
To You and to each other,
Especially in the moments
When we groan under
The weight of the world.
You are our Sustainer
And our Father.
Help us live in the
Light of Your love.
Amen.

Prayer for New Beginnings

This is an excerpt from “A Prayer for Graduation.” Find the whole prayer on page 52 of To Light Their Way.

O God, Creator of beginnings and endings,
We pray for our graduate.
Walk ahead of them and beside them
As they step into a big world
Littered with loss but glittering with hope.

You were there for every
Newborn squeal and first step and lost tooth.
Remind us that You are with them now, too,
As our child looks ahead
And wonders what is to come.

We lament the ways we have confused
Productivity with worth
And projected that onto our children.
And we pray that our graduate will know
Their belovedness
Doesn’t rest in their accomplishments.

Need an Exhale?

Join the paid Year of Breath for extended reflections, guided practices, and contemplative rhythms to ground your soul and invite you to live from a place of belovedness. Every Sunday morning, you’ll receive fresh breath prayers, thoughtful guided reflection prompts, and soul-centered practices to guide you through the week. (And playlists! And phone wallpapers!)

Breath Prayer

Monday:

• INHALE: I am held in love.