For some people, their choice of occupation is crucial to their identity. This is not surprising, since the average person spends around a third of their life at a job.
In some ways, it makes sense that a job is so important. After all, anything you spend so much time doing is automatically important. With the possible exception of your immediate family, your co-workers may very well be the people you spend the most time with.
Moreover, you might be talking about your job often.
If you meet a stranger, one of the first questions you ask each other might be, “What do you do?” The answer helps the two of you determine how much you have in common and might influence your subsequent conversation.
Similarly, respective jobs are frequently the topic of conversation among spouses or romantic partners. After all, if you care for someone, you want to know how they spend their time, and how other people might treat them.
So a job is important. But is it healthy to base your identity on it?
After all, different people have different reasons for working. Some might work just to pay their mortgage, while others might be trying to make the world a better place. As the saying goes: some work to live; others live to work. Are both types of people defined by the job they do?
And if you lose that job, through no fault of your own, do you cease to have an identity in much the same way that you might lose your health insurance?
In your case, does your job impact your sense of self? If so, should it?
Related questions: Who are you? What do you like most about your job? What are ways to achieve work-life balance? How does your personal life influence your work life?
My sense of self is connected to several roles, with my career being one of them. I’ve devoted 23 of my 30 years as an advocate working to prevent and end homelessness in various ways. For eleven years, I led the Minnesota Coalition for the Homeless. I’ve also been involved in affordable housing through congregational organizing and advocacy. For many years, I’ve worked to help renters remain stably housed in quality homes. And, when I retire, I plan to continue my advocacy in this field to end homelessness somehow. My work is a core part of my identity. There’s no escaping that.
But my career is not the only thing that defines me. I am a loving husband to Rebecca and a pal to my pup, Luca. Who I am is also connected to my other passions. For one, I am an heirloom vegetable gardener, promoting seed diversity and playing a small role in protecting our food supply. Next, I dedicate a lot of time to working to end the stigma and discrimination related to mental illnesses, while also helping those who suffer from these diseases know they are not alone. And finally, I try to give meaning to what can be done on social media. So much of what happens on the various platforms is either sugar-coated or vitriolic; I believe social media has the potential to bring us together and promote healthy conversations.
So, yes, part of my sense of self is tied to my job. I’m proud of that. But I am so much more.
So weird, this has come up twice recently – my friends cousin was visiting from Tennessee and said that it was odd people in Massachusetts tend to meet other people and ask “what do you do for a living?” as an early get-to-know-you question. When asked what people ask in Tennessee it’s usually “what do you do for fun?”
I was also talking to a friend who recently moved to Ireland and they said people don’t care as much about their jobs, they’re more focused on their social lives.
So I question how much our local culture influences our sense of importance in our jobs? And then is that stemming from how heavily educated Boston, MA can be (if there are so many people questioning “Where do you go to college/university?” and attributing a sense of self to that does it then create an emphasis on what we do for a living.
Lastly, since I’m an artist my job and myself are almost tied as one. I definitely sense my whole self in my art work, from the freelance design work to the murals I do.
I definitely get a lot of confidence from my art, but my true sense of self also feels very separate from that confidence. It’s much more personal, complex, and ever-changing.