What Identity Work Actually Looks Like

A Peek Inside a Real-World Case Study: My Life

I believe there’s something we all want that we’re scared to admit. We might admit part of it - usually a watered-down version that sounds more practical, more realistic, less “who do they think they are?” For me, it was leaving nursing to build ToolKit. I knew I wanted my own business. I knew I could help people - but I never wanted to be a guru. I couldn’t stand the idea of being a “coach.” I couldn’t roll my eyes or cringe any harder at the thought of it. Tell someone you’re an operating room nurse and you get instant respect. Tell them you’re an identity coach and you get a weird look, followed by an “Oh… interesting.” Read: Not interested.

So I stayed. For years. Unhappy, unfulfilled, resentful. It wasn’t about the work. I loved my team, my patients, the adrenaline rush. It was about being trapped in a system that had zero regard for me. I existed to serve the bottom line. I was a body in a room, a box to be checked so the case could proceed. We turned over rooms like restaurant tables, constantly pushed to go faster. More cases = more money.

I was so angry at the lie of it all. The proclamations of how much we loved people, how much we cared. Nothing could be further from the truth. Our well-being was irrelevant.

As mad as I was, I couldn’t get past my perception that coaching was cringe. I also had no idea what “coaching” would even look like. I thought about what else I could do. I’ll learn to inject and get into aesthetics! I love interior design; I can do that! I’m obsessed with nutrition and gut health; I can make my own sauerkraut line! My brain is a prolific idea-machine. None of them were bad ideas, but none of them are the work I was meant to do.

Under all of the searching and striving, the knowing remained - and I still didn’t follow it. I left the OR and took a travel position doing laser hair removal. I loved hopping from city to city, but I was bored out of my mind. I couldn’t believe I was spending my days asking people how much hair they had left on their perineum. It felt like every day that passed was another day of wasted time, wasted potential. It took everything in me to not walk out of the building mid-shift.

I was in a bad place. I had stopped using my tools. My energy sucked. I was totally disconnected from myself. I’d slap on a smile and try to make the best of it, but inside I was miserable. I knew I was creating my own misery. I didn’t want to accept that I was denying my truth because I was worried about a label. About other people’s perception of me. That was a hard pill to swallow. I’ve always been the autonomous one. I’ve always gone my own way. I’m deeply convicted in my fight-for-what-you-want belief. And here I was, denying what I most wanted because I didn’t want to be cringe. Oof.

I was beyond over it. Beyond over myself. Beyond over my fear (let’s be honest, that’s what it boiled down to). I had to snap out of it. I knew better. This wasn’t me.

I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I had to come back to myself first. I got back in the gym, resumed my morning meditations; I started writing again. I let myself sit with my difficult emotions, regulated my nervous system, and took back control of where I was placing my energy and attention. Then I went to work on my beliefs. Somewhere along the way I started believing I wasn’t capable of having my own business. I believed I could build one, but I doubted my ability consistently generate the income I wanted. I doubted my ability to show up and speak about how I could help people - to publicly declare I was now the epitome of cringe. Regardless of how I perceived it, I knew the mass perception. I had to consciously decide to believe that I was capable. I could show up. I chose to trust in the knowing that I was called to this for a reason. That there were people only I was meant to reach. That there was something in this journey for me to remember how powerful I really am. To step into the version of me that had been there all along.

I slowly came back to life. I felt energized, inspired, grounded…calm. I still didn’t like my job, but something in me knew it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t be doing it much longer.

A a few weeks later, it happened. I was lying in bed, about to go to sleep - and it hit me out of nowhere. I knew exactly what to do. I’d been studying personal development for 25 years, trying every random tool I could find. I knew what worked and what didn’t. I had reinvented myself numerous times. I went from high-school dropout, pregnant at 18, single mom - to running my own net-branch mortgage operation at 27. I pivoted after the financial crisis, went to nursing school, and spent over a decade in the OR. I knew all about identity shifting and how to teach people to get what they want. It was like a light bulb switched on and it was suddenly so obvious. I would distill down everything I had learned into my own framework. I would save people all the time I’d spent figuring it out on my own. I’d call it ToolKit Unlocked. It crystallized from a vague idea into the exact thing I was meant to build.

I left nursing in May of this year. Since then, I’ve been through a crash course in online business. I’ve learned about websites, e-mail marketing, branding, graphic design, course creation, content creation, sales funnels, copywriting, visibility strategies… Having no idea what I’m doing, or what to do next is now a daily occurrence. I’ve never used Google more in my life.

Some days I’m on fire. Some days I’m filled with doubt. But underneath it all, I know I’m right where I’m supposed to be. I’m being stretched in the best way possible. I’m becoming more of who I am.

This is what identity work looks like - stepping into the version of you who can bring your vision to life. Facing the parts of yourself you don’t want to look at. Getting honest about what’s holding you back. Finding out what you’re actually capable of. It’s the most challenging, most rewarding, and I believe, most important work you’ll ever do.

In it with you,

-S. 🤍