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Who are you without your work?
Serious question.
So much of who we are is defined by what we do or more specifically what we produce. Project after project. What are you working on next? Is one of the most common questions a writer gets as soon as they finish a major writing project.
We are simply not allowed to have periods of nothingness. Lack of productivity makes us all uncomfortable as a society. We all need to be constantly working. Constantly producing. Constantly feeding the cultural algorithm.
Many have written on overproduction and this is not the place to rehash those arguments. I encourage you to go directly to the source.
What I did want to discuss today is the anxiety and self-doubt that often comes with periods of rest or as we have been conditioned to think, periods of being unproductive.
During these phases, we question who we are.
Who am I when I’m not occupied with creating, writing, baking, cooking? (Insert whatever action you want here.)
It makes us deeply uncomfortable thinking about ourselves without the reassurance of our work(s). We have been conditioned to think that it is the work that defines who we are. For example, I’m a food writer because I produce assignments for food media publications.
This mindset, or more accurately existence, has a grip over so many of us.
We are programmed to constantly strive to make things that can offer us the reassurance we so desperately seek. We continue to look outside ourselves (external sources) to feel a sense of self.
We need to know we are somebody in this world and too often and frequently we rely on external validation and our productivity to derive that sense of self.
It turns into a performance, a chase. No matter how much evidence you accumulate (work you produce) you need to keep making or producing things to continue to call yourself a writer, baker, editor, researcher, etc.
No amount of words written or works published will give you that reassurance.
What we really need is to first heal our relationship with ourselves. We need to make time for introspection. We need to know who we are and not base that off what we do or produce.
If you don’t do that internal work of healing your relationship with the self, you will succumb to external pressures (social, familial, fake, cultural) of performing and doing for others.
If you believe yourself to be an artist, no lull in your work will take that away from you. If you never decide to publish your work, you are a writer.
Your validation doesn’t come from the outside, you know who you are.
This is a reminder to separate yourself, your identity, your worth from your work and from the external expectations of what that work and output looks like.
Don’t let the world bully you into performing what they believe a writer or an artist to be. Define your own relationship with your art. Make time to reflect on how your work makes you feel. The time we spend away from doing our work is equally important as the work we make. Maybe that faint feeling of “I am doing this for the wrong reasons” is worth listening, paying attention to, and exploring.
So often we jump into projects without considering how they align with our internal needs. We often take on work to appease the inner critic who constantly undermines our belief that we are enough. We need to keep working to keep the voice quiet.
What would happen if you woke up one day and couldn’t do what you are doing? You lost the ability to make things. These periods of not being able to work are a common occurrence for those of us who struggle with mental health, chronic fatigue, or any chronic illness. No wonder we are left feeling worse about ourselves when everyone around us is bent on deriving their sense of self from all the stuff they are making.
The first step is to recognize and admit how much of your self-worth and sense of self relies on your work and external validation. Being honest with yourself about this will only make it easier to break the cycle and heal your sense of self.
I hope this short essay offers you a little relief.
It is simply a reminder that your work, nor the quantity and scale of your work or achievements, doesn’t define who you are.
What matters is your relationship with yourself and your work.
Feeling bad about how little you make is a byproduct of capitalism and societies it fosters. Embrace your lack of contribution/productivity and start talking to yourself about what it means to you to be a writer, artist, etc.
Ask yourself:
What kind of writer do I want to be? And why?
What’s important to me? And why?
What kind of questions do I want to ask? And why?
What motivates me and my work?
Give yourself time to understand yourself.
Slowly begin to unravel your sense of self-worth from your work.
A strong sense of self will help you enjoy periods of rest and it will make your work more fulfilling because you will be able to produce things for reasons that matter to you and not simply doing them to meet external expectations.
If you need someone to give you permission. Here it is.
You have my permission to do less and be more introspective.
Hello Olga!
Thanks for your insight.
I have experienced these feelings myself and the one thing that helped me was reconnecting with my hobbies.
Dancing has been a crucial part of my childhood, and since I started classes again I found a space where I feel the happiest, when most unproductive.
As a kid I did ballet; now I do flamenco following my family heritage.
I dance not to become a pro, nor to perform on a stage. I dance for me. I spend hours watching flamenco dancers or listening to flamenco. I put a lot of dedication into my appearance for class, I do my sleek hair and makeup. I wear the cute gold hoops. I get the red shoes I’ve always dreamed of. I do it just for the fun of it.
All time spent dedicated to my hobby makes me feel grounded and just genuinely content.
Well stated.