The work identity crisis

The work identity crisis - Or, why I can’t just enjoy being home?

Is work mandatory?

Is work a way to express yourself?

Or is work just that thing we do so we don’t have to check our bank account praying?

But here’s my current situation, which I’m still trying to figure out if it’s a problem or a privilege...

The accidental sabbatical

I am not working currently. This is the result of a series of unreal situations: a change of administrative name for my usual yoga employer, teachers strikes, bureaucratic nightmares that would require an entire article to explain.

Well, let me rephrase that.

I publish articles. I built a website. I organize my new home (because apparently moving means discovering you own 47 spatulas). I care for my family. I extensively walk the dog. That dog has sniffed every street in a 10km radius.

But still... I feel like I don’t work.

What work really means

Because work, as it turns out, is very specific:

Work is going outside the house.

Not just to the backyard or the dog park.

Work is socializing.

With people who aren’t family or neighbors.

Work is bringing home a salary.

That beautiful direct deposit every 2 weeks.

Work is participating in the collectivity.

Contributing to society, being part of something bigger.

Work is creating savings for my future without working.

Called retirement, how ironic!

And I am doing... none of that.

So I keep wondering: should I feel good about this or not?

When “not working” felt fine

I haven’t been working for the past year, but I was fine with it. Or at least I thought I was fine with it.

I had two teenagers at home. One training hard to reach a world competition, the other finishing senior year at high school while combining a new job and preparing to fly far away from the nest. Add a husband very stressed and busy at his own job.

So I felt useful at home.

Or was that just a really good excuse?

Back then, I didn’t feel this strange sensation of not participating in any collective matters of work. Honestly, it didn’t even cross my mind. I was useful to my people, so the question of “work” didn’t apply.

But now? Not so sure about it.

Mission accomplished. Now what?

My older teen flew away for university. 7,660 kilometers far. The other is on the verge of competing at his first world competition. And my husband is still stressed and busy on his own.

Mission accomplished, right? I can work now!

Except... it’s not so easy.

First, I need to figure out which area I wish to work in. I’ve had several careers that aren’t exactly related to each other. (Hello HR, yoga instructor, buyer, customer service, and career coach.) Yes, I realize my resume looks like it was assembled by a committee who couldn’t agree on anything.

Then I need to find job postings, socialize with my peers, work my network, dust off my resume and cover letter...

And I don’t feel good about it. But I don’t feel good about staying home either.

And then there’s the chihuahua. Yes, the one I walk extensively. If I go back to work, who’s going to pamper her? Am I really using my dog as an excuse not to work? Maybe.

The financial equation

Let’s talk about the elephant in the room: money.

Yes, work is mandatory to earn money. Last time I checked, the grocery store wasn’t accepting “good vibes or yoga poses” as payment.

But here’s the thing: you can dodge work if you’re willing to adjust your lifestyle. Downsize. Simplify. Live with less. It’s theoretically possible. People do it. There are entire blogs dedicated to it. So technically, I could just... not work.

But then there’s the future.

That nagging voice that sounds like every financial advisor: “What about being financially safer down the road? What about retirement? What about unexpected expenses?”

And suddenly, the fear of future financial insecurity becomes this overwhelming presence. Is that a good motivator though? Fear? Anxiety about a future that may or may not happen?

It feels like the worst motivator, actually. Working from a place of fear rather than desire. Earning money not because you’re building something meaningful, but because you’re terrified of what happens if you don’t.

And here’s where it gets really messy: one of my friends isn’t working anymore. Her kids are at university. She has the means to stay home without touching her pension. So she does. And she’s happy with it.

So I’m stuck in this loop of shame about not working and fear about what happens if I don’t start.

The real question

Maybe the real question isn’t “Should I work?” but “What does work actually mean to me?”

Work means different things to everyone.

Financial security. Creative expression. Social connection. Structure. Or maybe just a legitimate excuse to leave the house that doesn’t involve the chihuahua’s bathroom schedule.

Here’s what I’m learning: we all have to find our own meaning to feel good about it. Otherwise, it’s a constant mind fight.

Working from fear of future poverty? Soul-crushing. Working because you genuinely want to contribute, create, or connect? Entirely different.

The trick is figuring out which one is driving you, and whether you’re brave enough to choose differently.

Over to you

So here I am, almost 50, still trying to figure out what work means to me beyond a paycheck and a place to go at 7am.

What about you?

Are you at peace with working, not working?

Did you go through this identity crisis, or did you somehow skip this particularly fun chapter of midlife?

I’d love to know: What does work mean to you? And more importantly, have you made peace with your answer?

+ any idea what to do with the chihuahua?

Drop a comment below. Let’s figure this out together: because apparently, that’s what we do when we’re not “working.”