The 10 Big Questions We Ask in the Middle of a LifeQuake
Summary
This article explores the existential question “Who am I now?” that emerges during major life transitions. Using relatable stories and psychological insights, we examine how identity becomes destabilised during what I call “LifeQuakes” – those disruptive moments that force us to reconsider who we are at our core. Readers will discover that identity rebuilding isn’t about returning to who they once were, but about consciously integrating our experiences into a more authentic and resilient sense of self. Through practical exercises and honest reflection, this article offers a compassionate roadmap for anyone navigating the uncertain terrain of personal reinvention after loss, change, or other major disruption.
Introduction
“The morning after my office packed up my personal belongings in a cardboard box, I stood in my kitchen, coffee mug suspended mid-air, staring at nothing in particular. Three decades of professional identity—gone in an afternoon. My calendar, once packed with meetings and deadlines, stretched before me like an empty canvas. My phone, usually buzzing with urgent messages, sat silent beside me.
“Good morning,” my partner said, entering the kitchen. “What are you up to today?”
Such a simple question. Yet I felt my throat tighten. Who was I without my title? Without my team? Without the problems I’d been hired to solve? The sensation was physical—like wearing clothes that no longer fit.
“I don’t know,” I whispered, the words hanging between us. “I honestly don’t know who I am anymore.” Sarah D.
That moment—that peculiar free-fall when life rips away your nametag and leaves you exposed—is where so many of us find ourselves during major life transitions. We face the terrifying freedom of reinvention and reconstruction in that vulnerable space between who we were and who we might become. I see you in that kitchen, coffee growing cold, wondering what comes next. I’ve been there too, in that disorienting fog where the old identity no longer serves, yet the new one hasn’t yet revealed itself.
The Big Question
“Who am I now?” This seemingly simple question becomes unavoidable during “LifeQuakes”—those seismic disruptions that fracture our sense of self and force us to reconsider our identity at the most fundamental level.
Unlike typical self-reflection, this question emerges with unique urgency during major life changes because our previous identity anchors have been severed or severely destabilised. Whether through job loss, divorce, health crises, empty nesting, retirement, or even positive transitions like major achievement or relocation, we suddenly find ourselves navigating unfamiliar territory without our usual compass.
This question matters because identity forms the foundation of how we make decisions, find meaning, and connect with others. When that foundation cracks, everything built upon it feels unstable.
In this article, we’ll explore how identity actually works during life transitions, examine a real-life example of identity rebuilding, and provide practical frameworks for answering this question for yourself. Rather than offering quick fixes, we’ll work through the messy, necessary process of identity reconstruction—not by erasing who you were, but by integrating your experiences into who you’re becoming.
Sarah’s Story
The first time I tried to introduce myself at a networking event after my career change, I froze.
“I’m Sarah, and I’m a…” The familiar words caught in my throat. For fifteen years, I’d been Sarah-the-marketing-executive. My identity had been wrapped in achievement, strategy meetings, and quarterly results. Now, three months into my sabbatical after burnout had forced a reckoning, I stood clutching a plastic cup of mediocre wine, suddenly identity-less.
The woman waiting for me to finish my sentence tilted her head slightly. I felt heat crawling up my neck.
“I’m in transition,” I finally managed, the words feeling foreign on my tongue.
Later that night, I sat on my apartment floor surrounded by old journals, awards, and photographs—physical artefacts of who I’d been. I ran my fingers over a plaque from my biggest campaign launch, remembering how central that achievement had felt to my worth. Tears came unexpectedly as I realised I’d been measuring my value through external validation for so long that I’d forgotten how to recognise myself without it.
“If I’m not Marketing Director Sarah D. anymore,” I whispered to my empty living room, “then who am I?”
That night marked the beginning of my uncomfortable but ultimately liberating journey to separate my doing from my being. I began carrying a small notebook, jotting down moments when I felt most alive—regardless of achievement or recognition. Gradually, I noticed patterns emerging that had nothing to do with my former title and everything to do with my natural curiosities and values.
Six months later, at another event, when someone asked what I did, I paused again—not from identity paralysis but from the new freedom of choice. “I’m Sarah,” I said simply. “I connect people with ideas that matter to them.” The words weren’t perfect, but they felt authentic in a way my old introduction never had. They reflected who I was becoming, not just what I’d lost.
Insights
This question of “Who am I now?” during transitions reveals a fascinating psychological paradox: identity is simultaneously one of our most stable internal structures and yet remarkably fluid when circumstances demand adaptation. As a specialist working with clients through major life transitions for over fifteen years, I’ve observed that our resistance to identity change often causes more suffering than the transition itself.
Current research in narrative psychology suggests that identity isn’t a fixed entity but rather an ongoing story we tell ourselves and others. During stable periods, we maintain coherent narrative threads that connect our past, present and anticipated future. However, what developmental psychologist Daniel Levinson termed “breaking points” disrupt this narrative continuity, forcing us to reconcile who we were with who we might become.
William Bridges, in his seminal work on transitions, identified three distinct phases we navigate: Endings, the Neutral Zone, and New Beginnings. The challenge of “Who am I now?” emerges most powerfully in that uncomfortable middle phase—the Neutral Zone—where our old identity no longer fits, but our new identity hasn’t yet crystallised. This psychological limbo creates what’s known as “identity diffusion”—a temporary but often painful state where our sense of self feels scattered and incoherent.
In my work with executives experiencing major career transitions, I’ve found that those who consciously engage with this identity diffusion, rather than rushing to replace one rigid identity with another, ultimately develop what psychologists call “identity flexibility.” This capacity to hold multiple facets of self simultaneously becomes a tremendous asset not just for the current transition but for future challenges as well.
The Harvard Grant Study (formally known as the Harvard Study of Adult Development), which has tracked the lives of 724 men for over 80 years since 1938, provides compelling evidence for this observation. As documented by psychiatrist George Vaillant in his book “Aging Well,” participants who demonstrated adaptability in their identity narratives through life’s major disruptions showed significantly higher levels of psychological well-being in later life than those who clung rigidly to fixed identities. The study found that successful adaptation to life’s inevitable changes was one of the strongest predictors of both happiness and longevity, more influential than wealth, fame, or professional accomplishment.
This isn’t to suggest identity reconstruction is easy. It requires us to tolerate ambiguity and distinguish between our essential values (which provide continuity) and the circumstantial roles we adopt (which may change dramatically). The question “Who am I now?” isn’t answered once but becomes an ongoing dialogue between our evolving self and our changing circumstances.
Application
As Remote Work Becomes Permanent, The Great Identity Reckoning Has Just Begun
The latest Gallup workplace report released last month reveals that 53% of American workers now operate in hybrid or fully remote arrangements—a permanent shift that experts say is triggering widespread identity crises among professionals. With physical workplaces no longer anchoring professional identity, millions are suddenly confronting essential questions about who they are beyond their job titles and office relationships.
This shift directly impacts high-achievers who’ve traditionally defined themselves through workplace visibility, in-person team dynamics, and the clear boundary between “work self” and “home self.” Without these familiar identity markers, many report feeling untethered and uncertain about their professional worth and personal identity.
What this cultural moment reveals isn’t just a workplace revolution but an invitation to develop “identity resilience“—the capacity to maintain a coherent sense of self even as external circumstances dramatically change. This capacity isn’t just valuable for navigating today’s shifting work landscape but essential for all of life’s inevitable transitions.
Journaling Prompt: Identity Archaeology
Set aside 30 uninterrupted minutes with your journal. Begin by writing the question “Who am I now?” at the top of the page. Then work through these layered explorations:
- Identity Artefacts: List 5-7 “identity artefacts” from your pre-transition life—objects, routines, relationships, or phrases that symbolised who you were. For each, write: What aspect of my identity did this represent? Which of these aspects still resonates with who I am becoming?
- Constants Through Change: Complete this sentence 5 different ways: “Regardless of circumstances, I am someone who…” Look for the threads of continuity in your core values and character, not just your roles or achievements.
- Emergent Identity: Without censoring yourself, complete these statements:
- “I’m surprised to discover I’m…”
- “I never expected to feel…”
- “I’m beginning to see myself as…”
- “What’s becoming clearer about who I am is…”
Inspiring Quote:
“Identity is never fixed but constantly in the process of becoming—a verb rather than a noun. The disruption of transition isn’t the interruption of your identity but its evolution.” — Esther Perel, relationship therapist and author of Mating in Captivity
Simple Daily Practice: Identity Anchoring
Create a brief two-minute morning ritual that anchors your emerging identity. Stand before a mirror, place one hand on your heart, and speak aloud three statements that reflect who you are beyond your changing circumstances. Begin each with “Even as things change…” or “At my core…” This practice grounds your sense of self in your values and character rather than external roles.
Practical Takeaways:
- Identity disruption isn’t a failure but a necessary portal to authentic growth
- Your core values provide continuity even when roles and circumstances change
- The question “Who am I now?” is best answered through reflection and experimentation, not rapid replacement of old identities with new ones
- Embracing identity as an evolving story rather than a fixed state creates resilience for future transitions
- The discomfort of not-knowing is not just normal but necessary for authentic reinvention
Myth-Busting
Myth: After a major life disruption, I need to quickly establish my new identity to feel stable again.
Truth: Rushing into a replacement identity often leads to premature closure and missed growth. The “neutral zone” of ambiguity, while uncomfortable, is where your most authentic self begins to emerge.
Myth: My pre-transition identity was my “real” self, and I need to get back to who I was.
Truth: Identity naturally evolves throughout life. Your pre-transition self wasn’t more authentic—just more familiar. Your emerging identity integrates your past while accommodating your new reality.
Myth: Strong people maintain a consistent sense of self regardless of external changes.
Truth: Psychological research shows that identity flexibility—not rigidity—is associated with resilience. The strongest among us adapt their self-concept while maintaining connection to their core values.
Myth: If I don’t know who I am right now, I can’t make good decisions about my future.
Truth: The “not knowing” state is actually ideal for exploration and experimentation. Small experiments in living—trying new behaviours without full commitment—is how authentic identity naturally reforms.
Myth: Once I figure out “who I am now,” this identity question will be resolved.
Truth: Identity work is ongoing throughout life. Each transition invites refinement and expansion of your self-concept, making “Who am I now?” a question worth revisiting periodically, not just during a crisis.
Conclusion
In the tender space between who you were and who you’re becoming lies not just discomfort but extraordinary possibility. Your identity was never meant to be fixed—it’s a living, breathing expression of your evolving relationship with life itself. The question “Who am I now?” isn’t a problem to solve but a doorway to walk through, again and again, as you gather more of yourself along the way.
Remember that the most compelling human stories aren’t about maintaining unchanging identities but about transformation—about the courage to let parts of ourselves fall away so that something more authentic can emerge. Your LifeQuake hasn’t broken you; it’s breaking you open.
As you continue navigating this transition, be gentle with yourself in the not-knowing. Identity reconstruction isn’t a linear journey with a tidy endpoint but rather a spiral that revisits similar questions at deeper levels. Each time you circle back to “Who am I now?” you bring new wisdom, new experience, and new capacity for self-understanding.
I’d love to continue supporting you through this Big Questions blog post series. Sign up for my weekly updates LifeQuake Vignettes where I share my blog posts with exclusive reflection practices, life transition wisdom, and community stories from others navigating their own LifeQuakes. Together, we can transform our periods of greatest uncertainty into the birthplace of our most authentic selves.
What identity question are you wrestling with in your current transition? Share your thoughts in the comments, or reach out directly—your story matters, and it helps others feel less alone with their own reconstruction.