YOUR IDENTITY IS CALLING . . .

. . . is it calling from an unknown number?

For the next few posts, I’m using the Storyhill novels as my inspiration—zooming in on a question that one of the characters wrestles with and the deeper takeaways I hope landed with you as you read (or will read).

So where better to start than with Grace, our heroine in book one of the series?

Whenever I begin writing a new book, I start by creating very detailed character sketches. I ask my characters all the questions: What makes you tick? What brings you joy? What keeps you up at night? What makes you throw a shoe across the room (if you’ve read Love Me Like a Love Song, then you know, Grace has a lot of shoes)? And then I hit them with the big one: Why?

Since Love Me Like a Love Song was my very first novel, Grace’s character saw more rewrites than any of the other character in the series. Fun facts: she started with a completely different job, different goals and dreams, and I changed her age several times.

But no matter how many times I hit the backspace key, two things always remained: Grace was widowed, and her identity was deeply entangled with her late husband’s.

Right on page one, she thinks:

Her sense of self had quietly become a supporting role in someone else’s story. And when the credits rolled on that chapter of her life, she wasn’t sure who she was without him.

Later in the book, she confesses this fear to Brad Rodgers, her longtime friend and Storyhill’s new manager:

“Could she confide that she was lost—that if she wasn’t Jax Jensen’s writer and wife, she really didn’t know who she was? Could she tell him that all the constant fear and worry had decimated her confidence and she was completely blocked, not having written anything of substance in months . . . years, actually.

 

“What if I can’t do it?” she asked, the words sneaking out before she could stop them.

 

“Do what?”

 

“This.” She snapped the rubber band around the sheaf of paper and tapped the stack. “What if I can’t write without Jax? What if I don’t have what it takes to do this on my own?”

Sound familiar?

I’m pretty sure most of us have done this at some point—hitched out identity to a title and called it a personality. When we meet someone new, we often introduce ourselves as “Ben and Emma’s mom” or “a professor of English literature.”

And, do not get me started on how much I despise the all-too-familiar party question, “So what do you do?” Especially when it’s the first thing out of someone’s mouth. Pretty sure I’ve gotten to the point where I mutter something about being a writer and then immediately start scanning for the snack table.

That question—and my deep dislike of it—is part of what made me want to explore the concept of identity through Grace’s character. I wanted to write a story that made Grace, and hopefully you, think about yourselves in a fuller, more multi-faceted way.

For her, and you, to see that you are more than your job.
That you are more than your role in your family.
That you are more than your to-do list or your LinkedIn headline.

To fully embody the fact that you are a walking, talking, coffee-sipping (if you share my addiction) Venn diagram of dreams, memories, quirks, gut instincts, deeply felt emotions, and untapped potential.

When we limit ourselves to one label, we lose all the fascinating, glittering, weird little facets that make us us. The ones that make us shine. The ones that—when honored—bring us joy, clarity, and some kick-ass confidence.

Grace finds her way—admittedly, after tripping over her own fears a few times—and I want that for everyone else too. (Trust me, I spend plenty of time reminding myself I’m more than what I do as a job.)

So, if you feel like you’ve slipped into an identity trap, here are a few questions to help you find your way out (no need to gnaw off your leg):

• What part of you has been sitting in the “back seat,” just waiting to be seen again?

• If your job disappeared tomorrow, who would you still be?

• When was the last time you introduced yourself without mentioning your work or your relationships? What would you even say?

• What lights you up that has nothing to do with your productivity?

• And what have you quietly labeled “selfish,” “silly,” or “a waste of time” that might actually be the truest expression of yourself?

Listen closely, your identity is calling.

And no, it’s not spam. It’s you.

All the parts of you. Waiting to be remembered.

 

If you haven’t read Love Me Like a Love Song yet, click here to grab it.