Why We Need To Stop Letting Our Jobs Define Who We Are

Whenever I’ve managed to secure myself a brand, spanking, shiny new job, I can never tell what I’m more excited about.

Starting the job I’ve worked really hard to get… or updating my bio on Twitter/Instagram/Facebook/LinkedIn with my new fancy job title.

Because that’s what we do, right?

When we meet new people, one of the first topics of conversation is, “What do you do?”

And this is one of the first things we do as individuals to put ourselves AND other people into boxes.

Writer. Scientist. Personal Trainer.

We pin the majority of our self-worth on the fact that we’re good at something — or at least good enough to get employed by someone to do it.

All too often, our jobs are deemed one of the biggest, most defining elements of who we are — but are they actually?

Millennials are likely to have 12 jobs in their working lives

It’s no secret that millennials are unlikely to stick to one job our entire lives.

Research shows that we’re likely to move jobs every 3 years and 4 months, equating to 12.5 jobs in our lifetimes.

I graduated from university in 2015 and in four years, I’ve already had five jobs including my current one. So, it looks as though I’m already almost halfway through my life quota. Oops.

But before you write me off as a job-hopping, fickle Gen Z brat, let me explain.

Straight after graduating, I did two marketing and PR temp jobs until I could find a permanent job.

I then did my permanent job for two years until I felt I had upskilled all that I could, took on the management of a team of six volunteers and still, there was no sign of progression or promotion.

So I left to pursue a Head of Content role at a podcast hosting company. Fancy job title? Check. Fancy business cards? You betcha. Job satisfaction? Ultimately, not so much.

On the whole, it was a great company but it wasn’t the right role for me. So I left to pursue my dream of working for myself and going freelance. Honestly, I have never been happier — but that’s a story for another day.

But regardless of if I’m a freelance marketer, a yoga instructor or a barista -we need to recognise that our jobs are just one small element of who we are.

Because if you let them define you, you’re one redundancy or one case of being fired away from questioning the very foundations of what you think makes you, you.

In this day and age, jobs are disposable. Staff are even more disposable. And I found that out the hard way.

What getting fired taught me about life

The first job I got out of university was for a local PR firm. Full to the brim of post-university naivety, I was absolutely THRILLED to have got a job there, even it was only temporary to cover another member of staff’s long-term sickness.

But rejoice! I was finally doing what I wanted to do, what I had been working so hard for the past three years to achieve — right?

And yet, a few months in I realised that working for a PR agency wasn’t at all what I wanted to do.

The four women I worked with had known oneanother for what seemed like forever and they weren’t welcoming to me, as an outsider. On the surface they were nice, but it was transparent.

Meanwhile in my private life, I was seriously struggling. All of my friends had moved away from Sheffield and I was living alone — a stark contrast to the house of four friends I was used to. I craved the easy company of watching rubbish onTV that I had so often taken for granted.

I felt lonely and isolated. I would spend my days either at work, or travelling to or from work. Then I would get home to an empty flat and go to bed early so I wasn’t too exhausted to do it all again the next day.

I distinctly remember the inner turmoil I faced every single day on that walk to the train station.

I was so desperately unhappy and yet my internal monologue told me I should be grateful that I had a job in the field I had studied in when so many of my university friends were still struggling to get their first chance.

I hit breaking point in January, six months after I had started, and I went to the doctors for help. I couldn’t get through the day without feeling the crippling knots of anxiety twisting and turning in my stomach. I didn’t get joy from all the things that I’d loved to do before.

I was a hollow shell of a being. Going through life, simply existing. It was no way to live and I was prescribed anti-depressants.

A couple of weeks later I went on a night out with some friends who had come to visit. I was due to get the train to Liverpool the next day to visit a friend and I had to get off at the first stop because I was feeling so incredibly ill.

I felt faint, dizzy and spaced out. I felt like my body didn’t belong to me and that I might pass out at any time. It was incredibly frightening as I had never experienced feelings like that before.

I was taken to Stockport hospital where I was faced with a wait of five hours in A&E or the train home and a long night’s rest.

I went home so as to not get stranded in Stockport overnight. I rang one of my bosses to tell her what had happened and that, understandably, I likely wouldn’t be feeling well enough for work on Monday.

The paramedics thought my symptoms were likely the cause of my drink being spiked. She was sympathetic — or so I thought.

I didn’t go into work for the first two days of that week as I’d been back to hospital on the Sunday — I had fainted at home in my flat. I felt dreadful.

So when the other of my two bosses called me on the Tuesday night, I was expecting her to ask how I was.

But no.

What ensued was a torrent of abuse — she screamed down the phone at me that I was a liar and that I’d never been to hospital. Worst still — that she was cancelling my contract with immediate effect.

And even though I’d been desperately unhappy and looking for other jobs, I was devastated. This was my first graduate job — I couldn’t understand how I had messed it up so badly.

In the end, they had to go back on what they said as I had proof that I’d be at A&E (not that you should ever need it). But I was never going to spend a minute longer working for people who thought it was acceptable to treat me in such a way.

When I tell people about this experience, they are shocked at how badly I was treated by these women.

They completely and utterly wrecked my confidence as a young graduate coming into a new field of work. I questioned everything about my ability and job prospects after that.

But as I always said to people at the time - the greatest satisfaction for me would be when their nastiness caught up with them, their business failed and they had to go back to working for someone else.

And that’s exactly what happened less than three years later.

For the most part, when the worst happens — it’s never as bad as you’d imagined

If you lost your job tomorrow, how would this affect you?

Losing my job was devastating at the time, but I quickly learned that it wasn’t the end of the world that I had felt it was so deeply at the time.

Your job is just one, tiny element of who you are. And without it, you are still you — in all your wonderful complexity, you are still you.

Being fired from my first job didn’t mean that I was rubbish at PR and marketing.

It didn’t mean I should quit whilst I was still ahead. It simply meant I was dealt a very unfortunate set of cards in a work environment that simply wasn’t right for me.

The age-old saying “when one door shuts, another door opens” is incredibly true — and losing that job was the catalyst for incredible things for me.

I didn’t take the anti-depressants the doctor has given me. I decided to try and get better without medication first.

And sure enough, as soon as I was rid of that job and made some other lifestyle changes, within four months I was back to my normal self - finding joy in life again.

I went on to get another temp job, this time at the Sheffield Children’s Hospital.

To say my confidence was restored would be an understatement. It was world’s away from the world of passive-aggressive emailing and bitchy undertones I had just left.

I got on incredibly well with my colleagues and I felt motivated and above all else, valued.

If you’re going through sh*t at work — please, please, please don’t worry. It feels so all-consuming at the time, but in the grand scheme of things, it really isn’t that important.

We are blessed in this day and age that we have the opportunity to reinvent ourselves, at any time.

When you get it right, jobs can be motivating, inspiring and life-changing.

But for the majority of people, they are a means to an end. They’re a paycheque at the end of the month. A way to fund the things you actually want to spend your time doing.

Don’t be afraid to change jobs if they no longer align with the vision you want for your life.

I would argue that moving jobs after two years was the best, most tactical career move I ever could have made. I increased my responsibility and salary significantly more than I ever could have by staying put.

And even though that didn’t work out, I’m now working for myself, earning twice as much money as I was before and spending more time doing things that truly make me feel alive —such as travelling and spending quality time with the people I love.

Above all else, I am so much happier because I finally feel in control of my own working life.

So if the worst happens, or you’re sat in the office for the fourth day this week feeling like sh*t, remember this.

It’s only a job.

Life is too short not to close that damn door and push the next open with all your might.

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Hannah McCreesh is a Freelance Writer, Marketer and Lifestyle Blogger who lives in Sheffield, England with her grey & white sassy cat, Frankie.

You can catch more of her ramblings on her personal blog here.

And find out about how she makes a living on her freelance website here.