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For years, the question, “What is it you do?”, filled me with dread and anxiety. This seemingly innocent question that would inevitably get asked in many social situations resulted in me sweating profusely and turning bright red. To try and dodge this quite stressful and unsightly experience, when meeting people for the first time I would deflect – bombarding them with questions about their own life – just to avoid “it”.

Up until three and a half years ago, I was working in a career that like so many of us do, I’d fallen into, but one that many would have described as “successful”. But successful why? I was an employee engagement consultant, and yes, I’d worked my way up, increasing my salary with each job move. I’d made decisions about working for global companies because I thought that would look good on my CV. I’d decided to work as a consultant as I knew that managing clients and working across different portfolios would be favoured by future employers. I did all of the things I thought I should do to be “successful”. But I sure as hell didn’t feel it. I felt empty and slightly ashamed.  

It was during this time (throughout my twenties) that I experienced the worst anxiety about the question, “What is it you do?”. At the time, I used to tell myself that I felt anxious because my work was difficult to explain, or that talking about it was frustrating because so many people still thought that communicating with employees meant writing newsletters or putting up posters on noticeboards. But, if I was honest with myself (and at the time I never was), I didn’t want to talk about my job because I didn’t value what I did, and as a result I didn’t really value who I was.

I’m certainly not saying that if you don’t love your job then it’s impossible to value yourself as a person. But for me, throughout my corporate career, I’d moved so far away from the person I really was that I’d lost all sense of purpose and meaning in my life. Instead of working for causes that I believed in, or doing something that made me happy, I was slogging my guts out for global companies who didn’t care about me or the world we live in. I’d compromised my personal values so much that I no longer knew what I stood for, or where I was going. And because of that, I became a shell of a human, filled with fear, anxiety, and self-loathing. If any of you have experienced something similar, you’ll know that it leaves you feeling completely depleted and powerless. I felt stuck in this life that I hadn’t chosen, and I felt ungrateful because I should have appreciated my “successful” career.

So why not get out you’re probably wondering? There were so many moments when I wanted to just quit. Moments when I was brought to tears by manipulative bosses, leaving work at 9pm after a 12-hour day for a client I hated, being told my hair colour was holding me back, being made to feel completely incompetent because my manager was in a bad mood, working in environments where I wasn't allowed to show emotion or weakness, I could go on for pages. But this is the thing. I had so little confidence in myself and who I was at that time, that I couldn’t make any decisions or foresee myself doing anything else. So, I just kept going, robotically.   

Then it all came to a head. It was the year I was turning 30, I was getting married, and I’d been in my job for around six months at a global communications agency in London. Living the dream some might say. I would say that it was the hardest year of my life so far. I completely broke down and experienced a mental health crisis. I’d pushed myself to the limit, I was under incredible stress, and I’d moved so far away from anything that reminded me of who I truly was that my mind called game over. I was having panic attacks at my desk, and experienced uncontrollable blushing every time I was asked a question at work (which also started to creep into my personal life too).

My mind forced me to make change because I couldn’t be relied upon to do it myself. I certainly couldn’t go on ignoring what was happening inside of me. So, I handed in my notice. And in doing so, I felt like I’d failed.

But it was during that period of crisis that I actually started to listen to myself again. I had no other choice but to listen. And I started to crave the small things that had been missing from my existence for so long, like time. Time to simply sit and think about what I wanted, time to walk to where I needed to be instead of squeezing on the tube, time to make my dinner instead of eating out and wasting money, and time to simply get to know myself again.   

As you can imagine, after I left my full-time work, the question, “What is it you do?”, became more complicated, but somehow, I felt more comfortable answering it. I believed in what I was saying, which naturally made me feel less anxious. And my answer was this, “I’m freelancing at the moment so I’ve got some flexibility to change my career. I’m also thinking about doing some more studying.” This answer had varying responses from people, but the difference was that I didn’t care what they said because I knew that I was doing the right thing for me.

To be honest, even though the anxiety around the question has faded, and I’ve started my own creative business, I still don’t know exactly what to say when people ask me what I do. But these days, it’s because I feel reluctant to put myself in a singular box, and not because I’m ashamed of who I am. I’m many things, and I don’t think I should be expected to define myself to others in such a traditional way, by referring to my work, as if that’s the only possible thing on this earth that is worth talking about.

I’ve had to learn some hard lessons to get to where I am today, and I by no means have everything sorted. But one of the most important things I have learnt, is that most of the time we know when something isn't serving us well. Whether that's our work, our relationship, or our friendships, but sometimes we push those feelings down and hope they'll go away. They don't. When we lose our sense of self, our purpose and our personal values, this doesn't just go away. We have to take action. It doesn't need to be anything drastic, at first it can just be acknowledging how we really feel. But we do need to start to take control of who we are and where we want to be.

If you're feeling stuck in any element of your life, and feel that you want more, and have more to give, I'd love to hear from you so we can explore how we might be able to work together. I hold space for people just like you to uncover your purpose and personal values so you can begin to live an authentic and fulfilling life. 

I'd love to hear from you...

Amy HouldeyComment