When Your Job Defines You (and what to do about it)
Alice was a typical high-achiever. Earned her PhD and then smartly leveraged her skills to land a leadership position at a national non-profit.
She was passionate about her work. She believed she was making a difference. But she was also knocking on the door of burnout.
“I feel like my job defines me,” she lamented in one of our coaching sessions.
I understood exactly, because I’ve been there. And maybe you have, too.
You hustle, pursue your passion, and build a career that feels like your life’s purpose.
But in the drive to succeed, you fall into an insidious trap: conflating your career identity with your personal identity.
That’s when the knife begins to twist:
A small setback at work feels like a blow to your self-worth.
Criticism of your presentation feels like criticism of you as a human.
And long hours drain your energy until you realize there’s little left outside of work that feels like “you.”
You suddenly find yourself asking: “Without my career, who AM I, really?”
Here’s the thing: it’s not just you.
From childhood, we’re asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” as though our identity should fit neatly into a job title.
High-achieving women, especially those in medicine, law, academia, or executive roles, have spent years becoming experts - so of course it feels natural to identify with the role you aspired to for so long.
But there’s a steep cost. When your job informs your whole identity, burnout follows close behind.
The good news? You can reconnect with who you are outside of your work, and build a fuller, more balanced identity and stronger sense of self-worth- one that’s not connected to your job description.
That’s exactly what we’ll explore in this post.
You’ll learn precisely why aligning your identity so closely with your career leads to burnout, and I’ll share my personal story to illustrate. Plus, I’ll give you 5 steps you can take to start separating your identity from your job, so you can feel more fulfilled both in your work and life.
Ready? Let’s dive in.
‘I work, therefore I am’: Why it’s a problem
On the surface, defining yourself by your job might not seem like a problem.
For years, I was proud to define myself as a sociologist, Ivy League PhD. And if you, too, have worked hard to get where you’re at in your career, then I bet you feel the same!
But there’s a fine line between loving your career and making it the centerpiece of your identity.
When you feel defined by your job, like your entire existence revolves around your role at work… this is a problem.
Besides leading to a very limited vision and version of life, when your self-identity is deeply intertwined with your career, chronic stress, burnout, and a whole host of health problems can eventually result.
And figuring out how to get unstuck is not easy.
High-Achievers Are Impacted the Most
While this phenomenon of “I work, therefore I am” is widespread in our modern capitalist society, it’s particularly common among women who consider themselves ‘high-achievers,’ which isn’t just a reflection of your education or career status, but more like a personality trait.
Women who are intently focused on achieving are often trying to “follow their passion” and make an impact on the world. They’re goal-oriented and tend to be perfectionists.
(Is this you, dear reader?)
This isn’t necessarily bad, by the way: people who are passionate about their work are more likely to excel at it.
In fact, one of the things I support my clients with in THRIVE (my 1-1 coaching program) is ensuring their career is aligned with their core values- so that it feels purposeful to them.
—> But here’s the downside: the focus on achieving and passion is what can often lead women to equate their self-identity and self-worth with their career role and success.
And when you allow your career or job to define you like that, you’re engaging in a very narrow and dangerous definition of self and self-worth.
The highs are HIGH- win that promotion and you’re on cloud 9.
But make a mistake at work- even a small one- and it hits deep into your soul.
Weather repeated hits like this and you’re on the road to burnout.
Here’s how it unfolded for me…
My life as a sociologist: From passionate & Driven to burnt out
(*NOTE: When I wrote the first version of this blog post, I needed to share my story, to get it out of my system. Which is just to warn you- this section of the post is a little long. If you just want to know what to DO to stop feeling so emotionally connected to your job, skip to the end.)
One day when I was in the last year of my PhD program, I received a dreaded email: a research paper I’d worked on for countless hours and that was literally written through my blood, sweat, and tears, was rejected by a top journal in my field. I got the bad news in the computer lab in the basement of Maxcy Hall, where the Brown University Sociology Department was housed.
My heart sank, I immediately became sick to my stomach, and tears welled up in my eyes. Younger grad students surrounded me and I searched frantically for a quick exit so I could cry in peace.
The whole thing was both devastating and humiliating.
I’d been hoping to get that paper accepted for publication, to strengthen my standing on the ultra-competitive tenure track job market. I thought that without it, I’d be hard pressed to get a job.
But it wasn’t just that my chances of getting a prestigious job had been dampened.
It was that my own self-worth, my entire reason for being, had taken a serious hit.
Obviously I was catastrophizing the situation. But this was my thought process:
If I couldn’t be a sociology professor (specifically at an ‘R1’ top research university), if I couldn’t publish my work, and if my research was worthless (or if some revered scholars thought it was worthless)… then I, too, must be worthless.
If my ideas weren’t good enough… then I, as a human being, was not good enough.
If my writing was uninspiring… then I was uninspiring.
If no one wanted to hire me… then no one would want me around for any other reason, either.
And if I couldn’t be excellent- the best- at sociology, then what else did I have to offer the world? Who could I be?
Talk about some all-or-nothing thinking!
TODAY I CAN LOOK BACK AND SEE THAT THROUGHOUT THE PROCESS OF OBTAINING MY PHD, LITTLE PIECES OF ME WERE GRADUALLY CHIPPED AWAY, RENDERING ME THE PRIMARY, ALMOST SINGULAR IDENTITY OF “SOCIOLOGIST”.
I write in the passive voice there for a reason- I’m not really sure who chipped away those pieces.
Was it me? Did I do it of my own free will?
Was I compelled? Was the metamorphosis from whole human to human-as-sociologist my own doing or was it the result of larger institutional and social forces?
(hah, there’s some sociologizing for you… Stay with me.)
The real answer is complicated. I made my own choices, but the pressures to conform were also intense.
The path from whole human to human-as-sociologist
Here’s what I know:
Before I started my PhD program, I was in amazing shape and excellent health. I loved running, swimming, going to the gym, and eating well. I felt great. I was getting into skiing, a sport I took up after college and absolutely LOVED.
I had lots of interests, too. The summer before grad school, I grew an organic vegetable garden with my mom, and I backpacked through Guatemala for 6 weeks, just for the fun and adventure of it.
Getting accepted into a prestigious PhD program where I could pursue my passion for learning about international development and other people and cultures was the cherry on top. I was high on life!
Grad school began, and while there were aspects of student life I absolutely loved, I was also introduced to a new level of stress.
Yes, I’d been stressed before. In fact, I lived in Haiti the year after graduating from college and had so much stress that I started missing periods and my hair was falling out.
But PhD stress was an entirely new beast.
And it was especially difficult because faculty and fellow competitive students pushed me to embrace the stress, work harder, and put more pressure on myself to excel while at the same time discouraging me from doing the things that would help me manage the stress of all that hard work.. and actually excel.
In my first year of the PhD, at least for the first couple of months, I thought I could maintain some semblance of work-life balance.
I bought a season ski pass to the best mountains in New England (putting my student discount to work). I remember there weren’t even any blackout dates. For the first time ever, I could ski all I wanted!
But guess what? I didn’t ski even one day that winter. I was too focused on reading and writing papers- and to a certain extent, I was happy to do so.
Speaking of sports, my exercise routine- which I loved- dropped from 5-6 days a week down to 3, and I’d usually find myself running laps at the indoor track at 11pm.
Yes, you read that right. 11pm at night.
Often, I’d return to the Sociology Department after that to continue working until the last call for “SafeRide”, at 2:45am. That was the free University transportation that would pick you up and escort you safely home after dark. I was getting to sleep at 3am- sometimes later- and waking at 9am or 10am.
Only a few months in, my body was paying the price.
My circadian rhythm was off, and I was extremely sleep deprived. I even developed a scary looking type of eczema all over my joints from the stress.
Despite the building health problems, I was PROUD! I couldn’t believe how productive I had become. I was living the dream, becoming a PhD, doing what I’d always wanted… Or so I thought.
Besides skiing and exercise taking a backseat to my studies, so did old friends. My pre-grad school relationships suffered- some completely dying off- because I didn’t have the time to maintain them.
Thankfully, my family didn’t ditch me. I was a first generation college student and my parents were happy just to see me succeeding at an Ivy League school, even if it meant they barely heard from me.
I lived this dichotomous life for a while- dropping my hobbies and friends on the one hand, and walking around like an uber-productive zombie on the other hand.
Thrilled that I was realizing my “passion”, but secretly obsessing that I wasn’t “good enough” to be at Brown and that soon enough the faculty would realize that and kick me out of the program.
later I learned there’s a term for that: imposter syndrome.
But at the time, the prospect of abject failure felt 100% real and motivated me to drop everything else in my life for the sake of my “passion”.
Professors encouraged this behavior, and fellow grad students followed suit and encouraged one another to fall in line. If anything, it was something to bond over. I recall one late night in the sociology computer lab, a senior professor poked her head in and praised me and a couple other students for working at midnight on a Saturday.
The lesson I took away from that moment?
—> To be successful, I needed to work every day and every night. No breaks. That is what separates the winners from the losers.
(By the way, I know now that is not true, but I didn’t know it back then. Click here to read my blog post all about how to have success without burnout)
This lifestyle of cycling in and out of burnout went on for years. The only reprieve was the time I spent doing field research in Guatemala every summer. I still got work done but my life was more balanced and less stressed. I ate healthy, practiced yoga every day, and developed friendships there. It began to feel like a second home to me, one where I could really be myself.
Still, back at Brown my advisors were telling me that the best dissertation would need to be a “cross-national comparative study”. So I crafted an ambitious research plan that would require at least 12 months of fieldwork, split between Guatemala and Bolivia. And I won prestigious federal funding from multiple sources to carry it out.
I was doing what needed to be done, no matter the cost to my wellbeing.
But Finally, I Began To Set Boundaries
After a few months researching in Guatemala, I didn’t want to go to Bolivia. I was content in Guatemala, excited by my work, and I’d had a difficult time in Bolivia in the past and didn’t want to re-live it (long story). So I dramatically re-structured my project to make it work in Guatemala, and informed my dissertation committee.
After years of toeing the line I’d stood up for myself and set a BOUNDARY. It felt scary but empowering!
However, one of my dissertation committee members- the one who was the most senior and well respected- didn’t like my decision and refused to continue advising me.
I realized then that I wasn’t a real person to her, just a research project that was no longer good enough to support.
And not only did I have to live down that rejection in front of all my peers, I also had to find a professor willing to join my dissertation committee when I was nearly done with the project (in short, it wasn’t easy).
The lessons learned this time?
Setting boundaries and making a decision for my own well-being (not just for the good of my dissertation) would be punished.
Trying to establish work-life balance would be punished.
Cultivating an identity other than sociologist would be punished.
And the biggest lesson (that maybe I didn’t realize till much later): Yes, some workplaces (or people at work) are toxic and that’s not something you can control. What you CAN do in those situations is trust in yourself and set boundaries that allow you to live in a way that respects your values. Do that and you can’t go wrong.
I didn’t realize then, but looking back, this was a turning point for me.
I’d reached the point where I wasn’t willing to continue conforming for the sake of passion and success. I was definitely not going to quit, but I no longer would accept a life solely focused on sociology and proving my worth through my work. I had to put ‘me’ back together somehow!
As for the rest of the story of how I finished my PhD, completely burned out, hit rock bottom and then crawled back up again… you can read it in another blog post, “I Ascended After Burning Out- Here’s How You Can, Too”.
Suffice it to say that I will always be a sociologist, but I’m also a person.
I have hobbies. I love surfing, I love cooking and nutrition and other nerdy healthy stuff. I love being active and living near the ocean. I love connecting with friends. And I love spending time with people I love: my parents, my partner Rob, and his kids.
And in my new career, as a holistic health coach (who also moonlights as a research consultant on the side), I’ve avoided identifying entirely with my career. It’s just one of many pieces that make me “Me”.
I’m a well-rounded person now.
5 Steps to Gently Separate Your Self-Identity From Your Work
What to do if you see yourself in my story
Disentangling my self-identity and self-worth from my career was a process.
It was a process of:
Learning and accepting who I am and what I like to do- creating my own vision of “success” .
Standing up for myself and setting boundaries that respect my needs and values- even if it feels scary sometimes.
Becoming more self-aware of when I’m investing too much time, energy, and thought into work- and making a conscious choice to take breaks and enjoy life.
If you’re feeling like your job defines you and it’s slowly burning you out, below are five strategies to help you start to take back your identity, your worth, and your life.
These strategies aren’t always easy- but they worked for me, they’ve worked for the clients I support in THRIVE, and they can work for you, too.
#1. Get clear about your values
Your values are at the core of who you are as a human being. You may need to dig deep to figure them out, but you’ll be glad you did it because when you become crystal clear on your values, living them out becomes easier, setting boundaries becomes natural, and life becomes more fulfilling and rewarding.
Start by asking yourself: What do I value most in life? Write it all down. Choose your top 5 values. Now look at how you spent your time over the past week or two. How much time do you devote to the things or people you MOST value? How could you adjust your life (and your work life) to spend more time and energy on the things you value the most?
This is the first step towards re-defining “success” on your own terms.
#2. Set clear boundaries with work
Do you take your work home with you? If you work from home, are you setting clear working hours or do you bring your laptop to bed with you?
If the lines between your work life and personal life are blurred, then start setting some boundaries so you have the time and space to explore your identity beyond work.
Some examples of healthy work boundaries you could consider include:
Being more intentional with what kinds of projects you’ll agree to take on (and which ones you won’t).
Limiting how much time you dedicate to checking and responding to emails.
Setting clear hours (and days) for when you’ll work or otherwise be available via email or phone.
#3. Enjoy Your Hobbies
So you’ve decided you no longer want your job to define you! Cool. Then what else are you about? Who are you?
Cultivating hobbies are a good place to start that process of self-discovery.
Did you used to love gardening but dropped it for your career? Then this is your sign to get back into it!
Have you completely forgotten what you love to do outside of work? That’s ok. Treat this as a great adventure! Start experimenting with new activities. It could be anything- cooking, reading for pleasure, bowling, photography. Personally, I took up surfing.
Just commit to doing something that is only for you, allows you to have FUN, and gets your brain working and body moving in new ways.
#4. Invest in your relationships
Humans are social beings! And that means relationships are a central part of a meaningful, fulfilling life.
So if yours have taken a back seat to your career for a while, then why not try to reconnect with old friends and family, or start making new connections? This can be difficult at first, so just decide on one simple action step to get the ball rolling. For example, maybe you’ll choose to call one friend each week, and write that down into your calendar as a non-negotiable appointment.
Connecting with other humans outside of the work environment can help you begin to see yourself as much more than just your job.
#5. Let go of the guilt
Do you feel guilty when you’re enjoying yourself instead of checking your email or working on that report that’s due next week? It’s easier said than done, but letting go of guilt and allowing yourself some scheduled downtime can go a long way.
If this is feels challenging to, try journaling on these questions:
How is this guilt serving me? What do I get out of it?
How does it NOT serve me?
If I take time off from work- or stop thinking about work- what am I afraid might happen? And how likely is it to come true?
Sometimes letting go of the ‘I should be working’ guilt requires we look inside and be very honest with ourselves about the role that feeling plays in our lives.
Here’s one more tip for moving through the discomfort: the next time that guilty feeling comes up, pause and pay attention. Don’t try to make the feeling go away (it won’t).
Instead, try to locate where you’re feeling it in your body. Place your hand on that spot, and take a few breaths deep into your belly, exhaling very slowly. Then say something affirming to yourself: “It’s OK that I feel guilty. Taking time off is new for me. But I will be a better person for it. I can do this.”
It’s Time To Put You Back In The Center Of Your Life
Imagine a life where your self-worth isn’t tied to your latest achievement… where feedback doesn’t shake your confidence… and where your identity feels rich, multifaceted, and deeply rooted in who you are — not just what you do.
That life is possible. And it begins with one decision: choosing to stop letting your career define you, and starting to define yourself on your own terms.
You don’t have to figure this all out alone.
I help women leaders like you take that step every day in my private burnout recovery coaching program, THRIVE.
