Don’t Let Your Self-Prescribed Identity Hold You Back From Travel

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If you desperately want to create a travel-based lifestyle but have not been able to dive in yet, it might be useful to think about what needs to happen for you mentally in order to do so. The hurdle to making big decisions in our lives is not always physical or financial. Is your self-prescribed identity holding you back from travel?

As a travel blogger I talk a lot about the value of “detours”, which most people envision as physical off-route adventures. You may take a backroad detour when the main route is closed on a road trip, or veer off onto a hiking trail spur simply because it looks interesting. These unexpected choices can lead you to something better than you ever could have planned purposefully.

However, more interesting to me is the idea of experiencing a detour from your life plan or career plan. Back when I left the corporate world in 2016 in order to hitchhike and travel, it felt like no-one could fathom why I would do such a thing. There was a lot of judgement. Now in 2022, the choice to ditch your playbook is much more common as my generation and those younger are leading The Great Resignation. People are no longer willing to accept poor treatment, being underpaid, and wasting their lives away in return for the privilege of food (which grows on trees). 

Detour (noun) : a deviation from a direct course or the usual procedure; especially : a roundabout or circuitous way temporarily replacing part of a route

Still, naturally there is some stopping, starting, and stuttering involved in these decisions. My TikTok algorithm is constantly showing me videos from young people speaking about their confusion at this crossroads. This one where @willeygoat talks about not being able to decide which path to take has 463.5K views at the time of this writing.

My First Identity: Version 1.0

I know this feeling well. After I left New York City where I worked in the music industry, I worked a few travel-related seasonal jobs and then promptly ran out of money. Perhaps the stress of trying to figure out my new lifestyle had a hand in prompting me to miss some aspects of my old identity. When I was working in music, I had a very defined image of myself. I was a semi-punk semi-goth chick who wanted to spread the word about great art. Through music, I wanted to listen to the way other people experience this world, especially if they grew up in different circumstances than me. I was an extremely dedicated worker and scene regular who cared more than everyone else about music; it’s all I did 24/7. I was someone my peers in the industry could trust, and should listen to. I had my finger on the pulse.

At least, that’s the identity I created for myself. Whether I successfully convinced anyone else of this identity is surely arguable. When I left that world and all my friends who knew that version of me, there was a grieving and a feeling of loss. I had been crafting that identity since I was maybe 12 years old. I had a radio show in middle school and high school where I talked about local punk bands. I was in a band myself. Then my college degree was in music industry, and I did multiple internships. My first job out of college was in music. All of my clothes had band names on them. All of my references and signposts were rock’n’roll. 

As a result, I actually went back to the music industry again for about a year and a half. This is a time that I prefer to forget. I knew that world, I needed a paycheck and was not yet creative enough to figure out how to sustain my new adventurous travel lifestyle long-term, I had some questions about “what if”, and I missed my identity. But this was a horrible decision, because all the same reasons I chose to leave in the first place still existed. I was wasting my life away commuting to a cubicle job. I couldn’t stand the types of personalities and pointless tasks I was dealing with on a daily basis, and more and more I couldn’t bring myself to even care about the bands. Why was I stressing myself for these people? How could I have ever found any kind of “importance” in this job? When I was younger, I thought music had the ability to change the world, and I was willing to sacrifice myself for it. What a crock of shit. 

Thankfully I was quickly bashed over the head with reminders of why I left, and what my morals truly are. I remembered what I want to live for – it has a lot more to do with having a full, storied life, and a lot less with earning clout. I got myself out of there again, knowing that this time it was forever. I was not that person anymore, and I could not pretend to be that person anymore. I’d experienced a different path and had my eyes opened when I was working those seasonal jobs, and now there could be no going back. At least now I knew this for sure – no more “what if I had stayed”.

Since then, I have only worked seasonal jobs and done remote work in the outdoor adventure travel industry. This time around, there have been no second thoughts, no mourning for a version of myself that doesn’t make sense anymore. I don’t even know her. I find it difficult to look back and try to understand her motivations and priorities. 

Why Do We Cling to Self-Prescribed Identities?

Looking back, in some ways I see that this identity I’d created could serve as a crutch. For instance, I saw myself as deep and mysterious and intellectual because I listened to alternative rock and metal, and this is why it was important to be as unhealthy and brooding as possible. Happy, active people were unsophisticated and blind to the woes of the world. 

This worldview allowed me to skip exercise, chain-smoke cigarettes, and stay out all night drinking. It also let me look at other people with disdain instead of jealousy. I couldn’t wish that another person would accept me if I had already decided in advance that I don’t subscribe to their vibe. I didn’t want to be in their club.

I didn’t have to better myself.

Now, I notice this when I witness similar behavior in others. I’ll overhear someone giving a million identity-related reasons as to why they could never do X, Y, or Z – “I can’t learn a language because I’m too active and productive, I could never sit still long enough to study”, or “I can’t go for a run because I’m too much of a homebody, I’d much rather spend my time reading a novel than being out and about”. These are self-congratulatory humblebrag statements. You take so much pride in whatever The Thing is that you believe defines you – your work ethic, or your bookishness – that you let this serve as an excuse and hold you back from trying literally anything else. The best part is that it’s not just an evasive lazy excuse; it’s a good excuse. The reason you can’t try (and fail) at something new is because you have this noble characteristic. 

I’m not saying everyone should be interested in trying X, Y, or Z. It’s perfectly acceptable to have zero interest in a hobby. If someone asked me to learn to play the tuba, I have no desire whatsoever to do that. Instead, I’m describing situations where you might actually be interested in something, but you bar yourself from it out of fear, telling yourself that you’re just “not the kind of person” who would do it. Or, you force yourself to continue to do things you no longer enjoy because they’re supposed to be a major pillar of what defines you.

Identity Foreclosure

I recently listened to the Armchair Expert podcast interview with Maya Shankar, a behavioral scientist and former Senior Advisor in the Obama White House. She tells a story about a man who had been a health nut all his life, obsessed with fitness and making organic food choices, but he was suddenly diagnosed with cancer despite all of these efforts. He had to go into treatment where he lost his hair and his strength. At 1:01:44, she says the following (paraphrased), which I really resonated with:

“He said this experience has allowed him to see his identity as more ‘negotiable’ than he had before. That these things that he thought were so core to who he was maybe aren’t as critical as he thought. And I felt that play out in my own life. When I was a youngster I was on the speed train trying to become a concert violinist. If you’d asked me as a kid, ‘who are you,’ I would have been like, ‘I’m a violinist…and oh yeah, I’m also Maya.’ That’s how much the violin meant to me…and then I had this hand injury. So I’m told I can never play again…You lose The Thing and you start to ask yourself these questions like, ‘who am I? And who am I without the violin? This is the thing that defined me’.

There’s this concept called ‘identity foreclosure’ that refers to the idea that we can become really fixed in our sense of selves in adolescence, and we can label ourselves with certain labels, and it prevents us from having an open mind around all the other forms our identity can take…Being forced out of the thing I loved the most at a young age served me very well, because it allowed me to see my identity as more malleable than I thought. It taught me that it was more stable for me to attach my identity not to a thing, but to the traits or features of that thing that lit me up.

As a child I believed it was the instrument that I loved…but actually what the violin gave me was the ability to forge this very quick emotional connection with people that I’d never met before.”

– Maya Shankar

I’ve asked myself these exact questions. Who was I without music? Who was I if I was not a part of the music scene, and if I was not making all of my decisions around this one thing? I’ve even gone as far as to ask, who would I have been if I was born into a different family, or in a different country, or in a different era of history? 

This is actually a huge part of why I enjoy travel. When I was visiting Tombstone, Arizona, recently, I pictured myself living in the Old West. Who would I have been there? When I hiked the West Highland Way in Scotland, I pictured myself as a Highlands clanswoman or as part of the Jacobite Rebellion. Certainly, none of the identifiers I believe to be inherent and static about myself could be so immovable. In the classic nature vs. nurture argument, I’m inclined to lean more heavily on the idea of nurture being the greater influence. Would my current traits have still shown through in these other eras and circumstances? 

This is also a huge part of why I enjoyed music. Storytelling lets me imagine myself living different lives. I’ve never wanted to actually be anyone else in particular, but I’ve wondered who I might have been if I’d grown up in different circumstances. Songwriters can tell me the answer to this.

Identity Foreclosure: premature commitment to an identity: the unquestioning acceptance by individuals (usually adolescents) of the role, values, and goals that others (e.g., parents, close friends, teachers, athletic coaches) have chosen for them. The individual’s commitment to the foreclosed identity—for example, that of an athlete—occurs without exploring its value or contemplating alternative roles that might be more appropriate for him or her.

APA Dictionary of Psychology

Identity and Community

Some identities are not self-prescribed. I know that the concept of identity is extremely important when it comes to community belonging or ancestral history. I am not saying that people should do away with their customs or feelings of closeness to others of the same race, gender, or sexual preference.

I do wonder if it’s limiting when people base 100% of their identity and personality on these traits alone. While I am a feminist and a lot of my identity comes from being brave and audacious as a woman specifically, I also roll my eyes when an entire brand is just about toting “be a strong independent woman”. It can become a cheesy caricature and actually makes me feel belittled, like I’m being pandered to. While I am technically a “solo female traveler”, which is apparently a trend these days, and that does work its way into my writing, this is not really the core basis of my content. I blog about alternative lifestyles, traveling while working remotely, and I offer free hiking/trekking guides. 

I’ve heard arguments within the LGBTQ community where most people believe in the importance of living out loud and showing pride. For most of history people were not allowed to be their true selves. Now that it’s easier (though there is still a long way to go), they feel that representation and normalization is important. On the flip side, some people in the LGBTQ community are more ambivalent about the part their sexuality plays in defining their identity. 

So there are potentially some discussions to be had around this, but overall when it comes to identifiers that people are born with, my original argument falls flat. I can’t think of too many situations where it could become self-limiting to define yourself “too much” by these traits, especially if they’re traits you’re embracing of your own accord and not stereotypes that are being thrust upon you by society’s biases and expectations.

However, if your goal is to design a travel-based lifestyle for yourself and you’re running into mental roadblocks, it may still be worth assessment – am I holding myself back from traveling for any reasons related to my beliefs about my gender, sexuality, or race? If so, who gave me these beliefs? The answer may be “no” or “my concerns are objectively valid” (for instance, safety concerns), but asking the question will give you a jumping off point to think about solutions.

How to Move Forward?

Have you noticed any self-limiting beliefs that are keeping you from exploring or moving forward? Are they legitimate or invented? If invented, how can one push past them and embrace the philosophy of detouring?

Like most mental roadblocks, the first step is recognition. Once we can clearly recognize the self-talk that’s keeping us down, we can start to make active decisions that counter it. Rebel against this inner voice that tells you “you can’t”! It doesn’t have to be as bold of a decision as quitting your entire life and starting over from scratch, although if you’re on my website, this might be something you’ve thought about. Perhaps you’re reading this in an effort to pry yourself out of your current predicament and launch yourself into a location independent, nomadic lifestyle.

If you’re interested in taking more detours in your life, ask what your real priorities and values are. I don’t mean the highly specified priorities you’ve developed through a job or hobby, ie, “the violin”, but the values that describe how you want to experience the world during your short time in it. For me, I know that I want adventure and to always be learning and seeing new things. These days, the means vary and hold less importance, but the overarching goal remains.

With this in mind, I am free to make all kinds of decisions that may take me left, right, or around, knowing that whatever I find will still be in alignment with my purpose and feed my soul. If I decide not to hike for 6 months, this isn’t counter to my identity as an explorer because I may still be road tripping or working on learning a language. If I get tired of living in my car for awhile and stop to get an AirBnB, I am not throwing away my “vanlife” identity because I know am always on the road in spirit. I am not any one thing.

Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.

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