You Were Never Meant to Stay the Same Person

on identity & evolution

One of the most bizarre feelings is looking around at a life you once wanted, worked toward, and were genuinely happy with, and then one day it just starts to feel like you no longer belong. You stop identifying with the place you live, the people you surround yourself with, sometimes even the work you do. It's a physical feeling. It can show up as something subtle, a slight unease, a low hum of something is not quite right. Or it arrives louder, with the full weight of impending doom.

I have lived through many of these seasons. And I won't romanticize them. In my earlier years, they were genuinely destabilizing and disorienting in a way that was hard to explain. But somewhere along the way, I stopped treating that feeling as a warning sign. I started recognizing it for what it actually is: a signal that you have outgrown something.

And outgrowing things, it turns out, is not a problem to solve. It is evidence that you are still alive.

the conditioning

We Were Taught to Stay in Certain Lanes

From the time we are born, we are conditioned to stay in certain lanes. Blue for baby boys. Pink for baby girls. And the expectations of who we should be never stop building from there.

Has anyone ever told you, "wow, that's so unlike you" or "I never would have imagined you were like this?" I think we all have. My personal pet peeve is when someone tries to tell me who I am without being asked, as if I don't live inside my own body, mind, and spirit twenty four hours a day for my entire life.

I am the one who knows me best. Just as you are the one who knows you best.

And yet, it is easy to fall into the trap of wearing identity like armor. Performing a fixed version of ourselves because it is what the people around us have come to expect. Then comes the shame when who you are starts to change and your environment does not accept it.

One of my biggest personal examples: the day I became a licensed therapist, it was almost as if my human journey was expected to end. Suddenly I was supposed to be the living epitome of mental health and wellness, exempt from personal struggle for the rest of my life. I have certain people in my world who love to point the finger and say, "you call yourself a therapist?!" simply because I showed up as an imperfect human, like the rest of us.

Most therapists can relate to this sentiment.

For the record, I am not the only one who calls me a therapist. The states of California, Florida, and Texas call me a therapist too. 😉

on honoring the past

The Version That Got You Here Deserves Credit

The version of you that got you to this very moment deserves credit. But that does not mean that version gets to hold a permanent place in your present.

It is okay to acknowledge who you were. The mistakes you made, the identity you built and were once proud of, the beliefs you held that no longer align with who you have grown to be. It worked. It was necessary. It just is not you anymore.

And it is okay to grieve that. To feel the loss of a version of yourself you worked hard to become, while at the very same time feeling genuinely excited about what you are stepping into.

You are allowed to hold both.

the reframe

Change Is Not Betrayal

Change is not betrayal. It may feel that way to those who shared a prior version of you. But we are all changing. It is one of the only constants we can actually guarantee. We may influence the direction, but we cannot stop it.

When you consider that, someone saying "you haven't changed a bit" is not really a compliment. At best, it is an unrealistic expectation that adds to the guilt of growth.

Evolving is not abandoning who you were. It is the most honest thing you can do. When we refuse to acknowledge our own growth, we end up right back at that feeling. That low hum of something is not quite right.

We are trying to live in spaces we have already outgrown.

a closing thought

Those Past Miles Are Sacred

If you have been feeling like a stranger in your own life, consider this: your life may simply be a reflection of a past version of you that you no longer are.

You do not need to feel guilt, shame, or judgment. Not toward yourself, and not toward the people who loved you in that season but may not fit who you are now.

You cannot run a marathon without first learning to run a mile. Those past miles are sacred. They are valuable, necessary, and beautiful pieces of your messy and magnificent human journey. Even when they no longer feel like you.

I say this not just as a therapist, but as someone who has lived through more than one version of herself. This is not my first becoming, and it likely will not be my last.

What I have learned is that every time life starts to feel unfamiliar, it is not because something has gone wrong. It is because something is asking to change.

I wish you well on your journey.

Cristina Chinchilla

LCSW