The Perils of Identity (Part 1)

For over 20 years I worked in the Design and Architecture industry, briefly as a designer and then in various satellite roles that form part of the sector. I became fascinated with design as a young girl in my tweens, starting with Fashion Design then Interior Design, and finally, Industrial Design or product design, which is the Bachelors degree I hold. So, in fact, I have been “in” design almost my entire life.

Being a designer or being in the design industry was – and still is, to a certain extent – a big part of my identity. Almost all of my friends are in design too, so both my personal and my work lives have been reinforced with a sense of intrinsic belonging to the world of creating. 

What we do and who we are, are very often entwined - both in our eyes and those of others – whether we like it or not. It’s the reason why the most common question after being introduced to someone new is, “What do you do?” You know your answer immediately typecasts you, and how good you feel about what you do will determine how ok you are with being typecast. 

I was more than ok with being labelled as ‘in the creative industry’. And I was aware of adopting attitudes that were in keeping with a stereotypical design-savvy person – my coordinated dress with a touch of quirk, my curated home with designer pieces, and, I admit, a certain level of snobbery (is that a replica PK24 I see in your lounge?! Gasp!).

Over the years, I participated with joy as my friends, one by one, ticked off life’s typical milestones – romantic love, marriage, children – while my own life cruised along in the same, steady gear. As their identities became coloured with other tags such as lover/mother/wife, my identity seemed to stall. The biggest chunk of my life was my work, and so it was natural that a big part of my identity was embedded in it.

I only began to question the validity of this when I signed up to one of the many dating websites and apps available to the lovelorn market. While creating my dating profile, aside from inserting a job title in the Profession box, there were no other references to my occupation. I realised this left me with little else that defined who I was, nothing I could point to to say, oh and I’m also this or that.

Of course, there are plenty of things I do to fill in my time outside of work; I’m an avid reader, I love visits to art galleries, the theatre and gigs, I dine with friends as often as they are available. None of these, however, have ever felt like identifiers. I don’t even have a hobby or anything I do particularly well.

So where does that leave me? Who am I? 

…to be continued…