There are times in life when you look around and think, What the hell happened to me? The things you used to enjoy don’t hit the same. Plans that once sounded exciting don’t really excite you anymore. Maybe you’re restless or bored, or maybe there’s just this nagging feeling that something doesn’t quite fit. Nothing is necessarily wrong, but something doesn’t feel quite right either.

That’s usually when we start saying things like, I don’t even know who I am anymore. Or, I just need to find myself again. I’ve said it. I’ve heard other people say it. And there’s usually an assumption buried underneath it that somewhere along the way, we lost the person we were supposed to be. Now we need to figure out where the hell we left her and go get her back.

But what if you aren’t lost?

What if you just changed?

We talk about “finding ourselves” like there’s one correct answer

I understand the idea of finding yourself. There are absolutely times when we get so wrapped up in work, family, relationships, responsibilities, and taking care of all the shit that needs to be taken care of that we stop paying much attention to ourselves. Suddenly someone asks what you want, and you realize you haven’t thought about that in a really long time.

But I also think we sometimes make the mistake of believing there is one definitive version of us buried underneath everything else. If we dig deeply enough, eventually we’ll uncover the real person, and then everything will make sense. I’m not convinced it works that way.

Think about everything that’s happened since whatever version of yourself you’re comparing yourself to. You’ve had experiences you hadn’t had yet. You’ve met people. Lost people. Learned things. Screwed things up. Changed your mind. Surprised yourself. You’ve probably discovered that at least a few things you were absolutely certain about weren’t quite as certain as you thought.

Of course you’re different. Wouldn’t it actually be a little weird if you weren’t?

And yet when we notice we’ve changed, our first reaction isn’t always curiosity. Sometimes it’s panic. This doesn’t feel like me.

Okay. Which you?

The you from five years ago? Twenty years ago? The version of you that somebody else became comfortable with? The version who made certain decisions because those were the best decisions you knew how to make at the time?

That’s worth thinking about.

How much of “who you are” is actually just who you’ve been?

We all have stories about ourselves. I’m shy. I’m outgoing. I’m terrible with money. I’m the responsible one. I’m not creative. I’m a people person. I hate change. I’m not a risk-taker. I’m the one everybody depends on. I’m not someone who would ever do that.

Some of those things may still be completely true. But when was the last time you checked?

How many things do you believe about yourself because they’re true today, and how many do you believe because they’ve been true for a long time?

There’s a difference. Sometimes our identity gets built around repetition. We do something long enough that it becomes what I do. Eventually, what I do becomes who I am. Once something becomes part of our identity, we don’t necessarily stop to ask whether we still want it there.

That can apply to surprisingly big things. Careers. Relationships. Where we live. How we spend our time. What we believe success looks like. What we’re willing to tolerate. What we think we’re capable of. It can also apply to completely insignificant shit. Maybe you’ve been telling everyone you hate hiking for thirty years because you hated hiking when you were twenty. Have you tried it lately? Maybe you still hate it. Great. Now you know. 😂

But the bigger question is interesting: How much of your current life have you actually chosen recently?

Not how much did you choose originally. How much are you continuing to choose now?

What are you still doing because you genuinely want to do it, and what are you doing because it’s simply what you do?

Something can be right for you and then stop being right for you

I don’t think we need to look back at our former selves and decide they were wrong just because we want something different now. Maybe that person wanted exactly what she needed at the time. The career you chose might have made perfect sense. The relationship might have been exactly what you wanted. The place you moved to, the lifestyle you built, the goals you chased, the priorities you had… they don’t suddenly become mistakes because you’ve changed.

You can appreciate a chapter of your life without wanting to reread it forever.

I think we struggle with that because we want our decisions to remain correct permanently. If we change our minds later, we start questioning the original decision. Did I choose wrong? Did I waste all that time? Why didn’t I figure this out sooner?

Maybe you didn’t choose wrong. Maybe you chose with the information, priorities, needs, and version of yourself that existed then. Now you have more information. Your priorities may be different. You are different.

So here’s another question worth sitting with:

What if something can be completely right for you at one point in your life and still not be right for you anymore?

Changing your mind doesn’t automatically invalidate the decision you made before. Sometimes it just means you’re paying attention.

Maybe you don’t need to get back to yourself

Think about how often we talk about wanting to get back to ourselves. Sometimes that makes perfect sense. Maybe life has been chaotic, you’ve been stretched too thin, or you’ve stopped making room for things that genuinely matter to you. There may absolutely be parts of yourself you miss and want back.

But sometimes I wonder whether we’re chasing an old version of ourselves simply because that person feels familiar. We know her. We know what she wanted. We know what made sense to her. Going backward can feel a whole lot less intimidating than admitting we don’t know what comes next.

Maybe you don’t need to get back to her. Maybe you need to meet the person standing here now.

Are you trying to return to an old version of yourself when you could be getting curious about the current one?

That’s a very different question from How do I get back there? One assumes the goal is to recover something you’ve lost. The other leaves open the possibility that there might be somewhere new you’d rather go.

Personally, I think Where do I want to go from here? is a hell of a lot more interesting.

You’re allowed to change your mind

You are allowed to decide something you wanted isn’t something you want anymore. You’re allowed to discover that something you thought would make you happy doesn’t. You’re allowed to become interested in things you never gave a shit about before, change priorities, develop new goals, let old ones go, and decide your definition of a good life looks different now.

You’re even allowed to change in ways that confuse people who have known you for a long time. That one can be harder because the people around us know a version of us too. Sometimes they like that version. Sometimes they depend on that version. Sometimes we’ve been playing a particular role for so long that changing it disrupts more than just our own expectations.

That doesn’t mean other people don’t matter. Of course they do. Our choices affect people, and pretending otherwise isn’t personal growth. It’s being an asshole. 😂 Responsibilities matter. Commitments matter. Consequences matter.

But there’s still a question I’d want to know my answer to:

If nobody who knew the old you had an opinion about what you did next, what would you do differently?

I’m not saying you should immediately go do whatever popped into your head. But I wouldn’t dismiss the answer either. It might tell you something about what you’ve been wanting, avoiding, or refusing to even consider because it doesn’t fit the version of you everyone already knows.

Not knowing what’s next doesn’t mean something is wrong

I think this is where a lot of the I’m lost feeling comes from. We know something isn’t quite right anymore, but we don’t know what should replace it. We’d really prefer the next answer to arrive before we let go of the old one, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, life doesn’t always have its shit together enough to work that way.

Sometimes there is a space between this isn’t me anymore and this is what I want instead. That space can be uncomfortable as hell because we like certainty. We want to know the plan. We want reassurance that the next decision is the right decision before we make it.

But uncertainty doesn’t automatically mean you’re doing something wrong. It may simply mean some of your old answers don’t work anymore and you haven’t figured out the new ones yet.

That’s when I think questions become a hell of a lot more useful than forcing yourself to come up with an immediate answer.

What matters to me now?

Not ten years ago. Not what should matter. What actually matters now?

What gives you energy lately? What drains it? What are you curious about that you keep ignoring? What part of your life fits you really well right now, and what part feels like you’re wearing somebody else’s clothes?

And this one might require a cup of coffee and some uncomfortable silence:

What have you outgrown that you haven’t given yourself permission to admit you’ve outgrown?

Don’t rush to answer that one. The first answer might not even be the real answer.

Pay attention to what you’re curious about

I think curiosity gets overlooked because it doesn’t sound important enough. We’re always looking for purpose and passion and some giant flashing sign telling us what we’re meant to do next. Meanwhile, there may be some little thing that keeps catching our attention and we dismiss it because it doesn’t fit into the plan.

Maybe you’ve suddenly become interested in something you’ve never cared about before. Maybe you keep thinking about taking a class, starting something, going somewhere, meeting different people, learning a skill, changing how you work, or spending your time differently. It doesn’t necessarily mean you’re supposed to blow up your life and chase it. It might not turn into anything at all.

But why not investigate it?

What are you curious about right now that doesn’t make sense for the person you’ve always thought you were?

That question doesn’t demand a life-changing decision. It just asks you to notice yourself. Try something. Learn something. Follow the thread a little and see where it goes.

You don’t have to know where something leads before you’re allowed to be curious about it.

Maybe the question isn’t “Who am I?”

That’s an enormous question, and I’m not sure we ever get one final answer.

I don’t think there’s a finish line where you plant a flag and announce, Excellent. I have officially discovered myself. Glad that’s handled.

You’re still having experiences. You’re still learning. You’re still meeting people. You’re still making choices. You’re still discovering what matters to you and what doesn’t. You’re still capable of changing your mind.

You’re still becoming.

So maybe instead of asking Who am I?, there’s a better question:

Who am I becoming?

And then another:

Do I like the direction I’m going?

Those questions leave room for movement. They don’t require you to define yourself permanently. They ask you to pay attention to where your choices, habits, interests, relationships, and priorities are taking you.

If you like the direction, keep going. If you don’t, maybe something needs to change. And if your answer is I have no fucking idea, that’s information too. Maybe it’s time to get curious instead of immediately deciding you’re lost.

Because maybe you haven’t lost yourself at all.

Maybe you’ve just reached a place where the old map doesn’t tell you where to go anymore.

And instead of spending all your energy trying to find your way back, maybe it’s worth asking one more question:

Where do I want to go from here?