Identity Crisis
Episode 3
What defines your worth? How do you measure your value as a human being? What gives you a sense of belonging?
Sometimes culture, society, and even our families tell us that we need to be a certain way to be worthy of love. That our value is determined by how much money we make or how many achievements we earn.
That we only belong if we do X, Y, and Z.
I want you to know — none of that is true.
You are worthy and valuable just as you are. It took me a long time to learn that and believe that. In fact, I’m STILL learning this.
But I want to share part of my story with you in this episode. It’s vulnerable to tell and brings up a lot of emotion for me. But I’m telling you because I hope it helps you find a sense of worthiness and belonging that’s not wrapped up in performance. But rather, rests in the knowledge that you are loved and belong just as you are.
THEMED INTRO:
[themed music plays]
I’m Art Blanchford, and this is Life in Transition, a podcast about making the most of the changes we’re given. As a married father of three teenagers, long-time global business executive, and adventurer, I’ve been through hundreds of transitions in my life. Many have been difficult, but all have led to a depth and richness I could never have imagined. You’ll get to hear all about them on this podcast so that together, we can create more love and joy in our lives — no matter what transitions we go through.
EPISODE:
Part 1: Intro the story
Hello everyone, welcome back to Life in Transition. I’m Art Blanchford and today we’re going to talk about one of the most important transitions you could ever make: reclaiming worthiness and belonging as your birthright.
If your sense of self is completely dependent on how your work is going or what others think about you, I understand. I’ve been there — especially after years of putting my heart and soul into work achievements.
My hope though, is that by hearing my story, you’ll look at your life differently. You’ll stop thinking that you are what you do or what others think of you — and start believing that you’re a worthy child of God.
But first, I’m going to tell you my story.
[transitional music]
Part 2: Art’s Beginnings
I was raised in a commune in Pennsylvania. I was one of six kids and lived with two cousins, my parents, and two aunts. Our household was a total of 12. Life was hard. Money was scarce, we were very, very poor.
I learned early on though, that if I worked hard, I could get money to buy things. When I worked well, I gained the respect of local farmers and businessmen, as well as my parents, siblings and peers. And when I worked hard in school, I gained the love and attention of the teachers.
So I took that message to heart. I learned to think, “I am my work, my grades, and my performance.” And as I grew older, it turned into, “I am what I earn and achieve.” That’s how I lived for the first 40 years of my life.
Everything always went back to hard work. In college, when a girl wanted to date me, I believed that it was because I was a good engineering student and that she knew I would be able to provide well for her and our family.
I listened to my professors and earned high marks in their classes so that I could earn their respect, admiration, and support. Then I made MORE good grades and in turn got MORE attention. I took on leadership positions and earned MORE prominence.
All of this reinforced the paradigm that performance equals love, acceptance, and belonging. I am my work. I am my performance. I am what I earn.
Part 3: After College
After college, I used my good grades and recommendations from professors, and Co-Op bosses to land a good job.
When I got married, I told myself that I had earned my wife’s love over years by being a good friend to her. And also because I had a good job, she knew I would be able to support us well and take care of her.
Over the next several years, I poured myself into my work and marriage doing all the right things to earn love and respect — from my bosses, customers, colleagues and my wife. It all seemed to be working perfectly on the surface.
I kept getting promoted and took on even more responsibility at work. But always… there was this fear in the back of my mind. What would my future look like if I screwed up? Or got fired? Or got divorced?
This fear became so intense that I started seeing black and yellow in my left eye. I had tough headaches a lot of the time. Then one Friday evening at the ripe old age of 25, I felt chest pains and a strange sensation radiating down my left arm.
[music building]
I told my wife and she freaked out. She said, “We're going to the hospital right now.” She shrieked and wouldn't take no for an answer.
[car sounds]
As she was driving 90 miles an hour to the hospital, she told me how she lost a friend in his 20s to a heart attack. “I’m not taking any chances with you,” she said.
We spent the night in Mount Clemens General Hospital. But the doctors found nothing wrong.
Afterwards, I went to some reevaluation[3] counseling and decided that it may be best if I quit my job and move to Tennessee to be near family. I could start my own business and try being my own boss for a while.
But I stressed over that decision for months, fully expecting that as soon as I mentioned to my boss I would be fired at once for being disloyal. Finally, I broke the news to them in November that I wanted to leave at Christmas.
Much to my surprise, they begged me to stay. After going back and forth for a while, they finally agreed that I could move to Tennessee and work from there on one condition. That I would have to find three people to fill the jobs I was doing.
“What?” I replied. “THREE people to do my one job?” It seems I had been doing three jobs and just didn’t know it. So I put those three people in place and by March, my company gave me a promotion and new job so that I could work from home in Tennessee. This new role meant that I had to travel almost all of the time.
But I told myself, “I am my work. I am how I perform. This is a promotion, so it is good.Soon, I will find peace, acceptance and belonging”
Part 4: Promotions
2 years later, still not feeling that sense or self worth or belonging,I took the next promotion that moved me and my wife to Germany. Living in this new country, I did very well. It was very stressful, but I kept saying to my wife, “We’ll go back and settle down in Tennessee to raise our family.”
Afew years in though, I got another promotion offer in Michigan that I couldn’t refuse. It was a corporate global VP role working for the CEO. So of course, I took the job since I was my work and accepting it felt like I was saying “I am good, I am accepted, and I belong.” At 31 years old, I was running a global $400M business — and my stress levels went through the roof.
Tony Robbins and some other training, helped me learn how to handle the stress better. But still, there was a lot going on. We were building a house in Michigan, had two kids, and were in the process of adopting a third.
Things looked good from the outside, but internally, I worried constantly about what people thought. I was giving people way too much power over my life. Everything I did was about earning more love, belonging, and respect... though I didn’t know it then.
I even got my executive MBA during this time — JUST to give myself a little bit more insurance that I'd be able to maintain my income if I got fired and had to change jobs.
Part 5: Starting a Business
[music builds]
Finally, after years of wanting to move back to Tennessee, I quit my job. I took the advice of a potential business partner and I jumped. We packed up our home and headed back to Nashville.
Just like I’d planned all those years before, I started my own business. I had a solid business plan and a couple companies that wanted to invest with me. I felt like I was on top of the world.
[music stops suddenly]
But then, it all came crashing down.
When I didn't get a big contract that I'd been promised from an automotive OEM, things went sideways. I already had a couple of employees and a plant with production equipment, and I was working really, really hard. But sales weren't coming in as fast as I was having to spend money on the business. So I took on some investors.
But even with that, I wasn't able to get the revenue and earnings up to where they needed to be. And finally, on a fateful day in the fall of 2010, I reached the end of my rope.
[sad music starts]
I'm lying on the floor of my office, pounding the floor with my fists and cussing at myself. “How could you be such an idiot? Why did you ever quit your great job? Now you've burned all your money in this business!”
“What the hell were you thinking? How are you gonna feed your family? Your three young kids and your wife? What kind of idiot are you? How could you possibly do this? You're such an idiot. You're such an IDIOT!
I said this to myself over and over as I cried, screamed, and pounded the floor, tears running down my face.
[Soft, deflated tone…]
I felt completely useless. If I couldn’t perform and provide for the most important relationships in my life — my wife and my kids — then I am a nobody! I am nothing.
I felt like I had no sense of self or standing outside of what I earned, how I performed, or what people thought of me. And in that moment, it felt like my life was over. I was nothing and no good to anybody.
It was a real identity crisis.
For all this time, I had believed that I was my work and only as valuable as my performance. So… who was I when my business was failing? Who was I without being able to earn good money or do meaningful work? Without being able to provide for my family?
Thank God my wife came in at that moment. I want to cry thinking about it even now. She knelt beside me and put her hand on my back.. I was still on the floor crying and blubbering. But she said, “Honey. Honey. Forget it. Forget it. Just come with me. Just come with me.” And so I did.
This was at around nine o'clock on a Tuesday or Thursday morning, and the kids were at school. She said in a loving and cheerful voice, “I've got a day planned for us.”
I replied, “But I have to work. I have to. I don't know how I'm gonna pay the bills. I don't have the money to feed the family. I don't know how we're gonna — “
And she was an angel. She was so gracious. She said, “It's okay. We'll get through this together. I love you for who you are.”
[pause]
When I heard those words, it felt like an arrow shot into and reverberated through my consciousness, my head, and into my heart. She loves me for who I am.
At that time, I was the one making money while she was raising the kids. But since I wasn’t making any money — I thought she’d be freaked out more than anybody. After all, she's the planner and practical one in our relationship.
She counted on me to provide and I’d let her down. The economic security and stability was gone. And yet… she loves me anyway!?! I felt stunned! Was I hearing this correctly?
It was a hot Tennessee fall day in October, but she had already made us popcorn and hot chocolate. She said, “We're going to watch a movie.”
And then she turned on It's a Wonderful Life. I've always loved that movie, and she knew it. I loved it even more at that moment. After watching it there together, she said, “See, you have everything that matters. You have your kids, you’ve got me, and you have your health. That's all that matters.”
[music plays to let this moment breathe for a little bit]
Part 6: “I am a child of God”
Hearing those words changed everything. That moment of identity crisis took me on a journey of transformation. I went from thinking, “I am my work, my money and my performance” to believing, “I am a worthy just for being a child of God; just for being a human being”
Or as Brene Brown says, “Worthiness and belonging are my birthright and I don't have to earn them.” It's not defined by how much I earn or what I achieve.
But let me tell you friends, this is very much a work in progress. That identity crisis was in 2010, almost 11 years ago and I still wrestle with it today.
Early last year, when I recognized my workaholism and joined a recovery program, I noticed that Saturdays and Sundays — days I didn’t usually go to work so I could spend time with family — were uncomfortable times for me. I’d sit there, and if things didn’t flow well between me and my family, I’d end up back at my desk working.
I’d chastise myself saying, “I've got to stop and go spend time with my family.” But the truth is, I just felt so useless. With work, at least I know what I'm doing and get recognition for that. I know I'm good at it.
But as a father and a husband, sometimes I feel like I don't know what I'm doing. And I feel like I'm no good at it — like I’m useless as a father and a husband.
I’m getting better at being a good father and husband, but I still wrestle with those feelings. In the past, I used to make myself busy so I didn’t have to feel those feelings. But now, I sit with them.
Once I notice those feelings, I just go and sit with my daughter, son, or wife. I don't have to do anything, I’m just there. I call it dropping into their space. And sometimes we’ll sit together for hours with no agenda. Now, I LOVE IT!
As I’m building better boundaries with work, I now have time for these moments. They almost always turn into great connections. My daughter might tell me about what's going on at school or about her new boyfriend. Or Bea, as she calls it. Or my son might talk to me about the latest computer gadget or car he likes. My daughter might tell me her dream to go live in Ireland. Things I would never know if I didn't make the time to drop in.
Most importantly, I wouldn’t have the deep, rich, loving connection that has resulted from these times together.
And it has nothing to do with how much I'm making at work or what position I have. But it has everything to do with me being present, being enough, and having enough time, space, and energy to be with them.
It's a big transition, but I’m getting there. And I LOVE the way it feels.
Part 7: How to Make this Transition
Maybe you’re listening right now and you connect with my story. You also want to go from thinking, “I’m my work” to knowing that you’re worthy of belonging and love without performance.
Well, I’d love to share what’s helped me.
First, change the story you’re telling yourself with affirmations.
When I had that crisis back in 2010, I did a lot of affirmations from Tony Robbins. I’d say things like, “I am worthy, I am worthy. I am worthy,” aloud as I was on a run. “I am worthy just as I am. I am worthy.” Sometimes those felt a little bit forced, but they did seem to help. I started to believe it.
A second helpful tool was something my wife recommended from Eckhart Tolle’s book, The Power of Now. It’s a series of questions you can use to check in with yourself and they go something like this:
By observing that and being mindful of those feelings, you may find they’ll slowly diminish. Sometimes I’d go through those questions and then ask myself again, “Am I at ease now? If I'm not at ease, well, then what am I feeling now in this moment?” And then you can go through them again. It helps me slow down and notice what’s happening. Just the noticing makes me realize that I am not my anxiety or anger, but I am feeling that. Just observing diminishes it greatly.
Speaking of noticing, the third practice I’ve adopted is mindfulness. It’s a meditation centered on being present, and that’s made a huge difference as well. I practice it by focusing on my breath as I take deep inhales and slow exhales. Then, I will scan my body and notice what I am feeling from head to toe. This can be done in a few minutes, usually I take ten, and always brings me back to the present and diminishes the anxiety.
And fourth, is slowing down. Slowing down has meant creating space in my schedule, space for relationships, space for reflection, and space to just chill. I love laying in my backyard on a big fuzzy sleeping bag reading Reader's Digest. I used to do that when I was a kid on Sundays, or when I was in college. Sometimes, I’d take the whole Sunday to read a Reader's Digest. I haven’t made time for it in the last three or four decades. But now that I’ve slowed down, I still love to do it.
Creating more space in my life has led to a lot of growth, which makes sense. If you want to plant a beautiful garden, the first thing you need to do is prepare a space for it. You have to tear up the sod first. Or else, nothing's going to grow. If you put seeds down on the sod, it doesn’t work — just like adding a good thing on top of an already full schedule doesn’t work. You must remove the sod first, you must create space for something new to grow. Too much of a good thing is still too much
Creating space and slowing down has helped me see life differently. I’m able to pour into important relationships with my family, friends, siblings and parents, which has helped me see that I have value beyond my performance, money, and position. I’m beginning to see myself as a child of God, and as someone who’s worthy of love and belonging just for being who I am.
The fifth practice that’s helped me make this transition is learning to let go. Or as I like to say, “Let go and let God.” To me this means letting go and trusting God, trusting life, and trusting the universe that I'll be okay. I don't have to have everything under control. (I am just fooling myself if I think I can control it anyway) I can let go of depending on the good opinion of others. I don’t have to give away so much power to my boss, customers, or even my wife.
I'm still working on that. But I've made great progress. I just keep reminding myself that I don't work or exist for my boss, company, or anyone else. I work and exist for God and for life. God, not my company, is my employer, my boss. This opens up so many more options.
Part 8: Conclusion
All these practices together — affirmations, Eckhart Tolle’s Check-In, mindfulness, slowing down, and letting go — they’re helping me make a huge shift. I no longer feel like I need to perform in order to be okay, and I’m really proud of the progress I’ve made over the last few years.
My life is so much better for it. My energy, health, and joy is better and I just feel this sense of freedom and peace. And I hope that some of these things can help you too.
Now before we wrap up, I want to ask some questions to help you reflect on what we talked about today.
Take a minute and jot that down. Record or write it on your phone. Email or text yourself, or write it on a piece of paper.
Thank you for listening to that very personal story. I look forward to your feedback, and I really hope that you find this useful so you can transition to having a more positive identity.
Know that you are not your work. You are not the opinion of others. You are not your performance and you don’t have to earn grace. Know that you’re a worthy child of God, and that worthiness and belonging is a birthright for ALL of us.Yes, that includes you, no matter what mistakes you may have made.
Connect with me on LinkedIn or our website, LifeInTransition.online and let me know if anything stood out to you from this episode. Let a close friend know too — it could be a huge encouragement to them as well.
Thank you so much for joining me today. Make sure you subscribe wherever you listen to podcasts, and it would mean a lot to me if you shared this episode with a friend.
I’m Art Blanchford, and I’ll see you next time on Life in Transition.
[music plays]
CREDITS
Life in Transition is co-written and produced by Laura Boach. And if you want to learn more about me and what I do when I’m not podcasting, please visit me at artblanchford.com. Life In Transition is a production of
(GFS Sonic Logo [“Great Feeling Studios” read by my nephew followed by a laugh of my son])
Your story is SO dang powerful and you did such a good job of telling it all in one chunk, that I didn't want to start with it here. This will still hook the listeners in — especially if you say it's a vulnerable one. Still please feel free to put your own spin on this section, since a lot of this is stuff paraphrased or based on what you said in your recording (it's not word-for-word what you said)
Thanks very much Laura!
This came out muffled so I'm not sure if this is right
