Menu Menu
[gtranslate]

Why are we conflating our jobs with our identities?

All work leaves no room for self. So how do we separate our careers from our lives? 

If you took away your Slack status, your email signature, or your LinkedIn profile, how would you define yourself? In other words, do you know who you are without your career?

Whenever I meet someone new, the details of my job tend to crop up in the first few minutes. And likewise, if I’m stumped for things to ask a new acquaintance, ‘what do you do for work?’ is always a firm first contender.

It’s always bothered me that we find it so difficult to separate ourselves from our work. Why do we conflate careers (ones that so many of us spend hours moaning about) with our sense of who we are as human beings?

I understand that work is a place we’ll end up spending most of our lives in – a depressing but unavoidably true fact of life. But don’t we feed the capitalist machine enough that we can’t find anything more interesting to say about ourselves?

Work-as-identity isn’t a new phenomenon, but it upholds the perception that our worth is defined by our labour. And that’s a dangerous thing, especially when so many of us feel unfulfilled at work, or are struggling to find any at all.

The other issue is that work is ultimately a means of earning money (sorry, but we’re not turning up to an office five days a week to sing Kumbaya and braid each other’s hair). In that vein, when we conflate our jobs with our identities, we’re also placing a monetary value on who we are.

As I’ve grown into my late twenties, the subject of money has become more and more taboo amongst my friendship group. This is largely down to the fact that we’re all on very different salaries, and nobody wants to sit through an awkward conversation about who has what and who doesn’t. In the valley of friendship, it’s nice to pretend we’re all equal.

But the reality is that we aren’t. At least not in a culture that considers our take-home pay a key feature of our humanity. I’m all for talking about work less, but ironically, the road to that reality may need to start with a little more openness about our funds.

Stripping away the taboo around finances is key to leveling the playing field. Just as salary transparency in the workplace helps those on lower incomes leverage a pay rise, talking about it with friends can shift the shame felt by anyone with a smaller paycheck than their friends – and it also helps us to separate the money in our account from the people we are beyond it.

This identity collapse also leaves us deeply vulnerable. Because if you are your job, what happens when that job becomes unbearable? It’s well reported that Gen Z are opting for fulfilling careers over those that pay high wages, as more young people experience burn out from working in jobs that don’t align with their values.

This trend is a promising sign that we’re starting to put our identities before our careers, rather than the other way around. But it doesn’t solve the problem of how others view and value us beyond our job title.

Psychologists have a term for this collapse of selfhood: ‘enmeshment’. Typically used to describe unhealthy relationships where personal boundaries dissolve, enmeshment also applies chillingly well to our relationship with our careers.

When your identity is fused with your job title, any setback at work isn’t just a professional inconvenience – it’s an existential crisis. As for redundancy or termination? That can leave us feeling like failures, even if we’ve poured hours of hard work into our roles.

Nowhere is this more visible than among high-performing professionals in industries like tech, media, law, or politics, where entire communities are built around shared ambition and burnout is worn as a badge of honour.

Ambition itself isn’t a problem, but we’ve reached a point where even the time we’re not at work is becoming about work. We’re encouraged to suck every waking moment of our day into a form of monetisable or productive workstream.

None of this is accidental, of course. The system we exist within wants you over-identified with your job. It makes you easier to manage, easier to exploit, and (crucially) less likely to walk away.

Escaping this mindset isn’t easy. Detaching your identity from your job feels, at first, like stepping off a cliff. It requires building a self that exists outside your CV – a self with hobbies not monetised, opinions not marketable, and relationships not filtered through the lens of networking. It means resisting the pressure to optimise every hour and learning, slowly, to be okay with existing outside the metrics.

It might sound straightforward – but accepting that you aren’t your job is difficult in a world that’s constantly telling you the opposite.

Accessibility