“More Than a Label”

Stepping into a doctor’s office or updating a resume often reduces us to something small. A diagnosis becomes a category. A job title becomes a box. People mean well, but labels tend to stick faster than stories, and they rarely capture the parts of us that breathe, evolve, or contradict themselves. More Than a Label is the reminder so many of us forget, the parts of our lives that matter most rarely come with vocabulary from an HR manual or a medical file.

The idea is not new. Teilhard de Chardin once suggested that we are spiritual beings having a human experience, and even if you set aside the spiritual framing, the point remains powerful. Identity is bigger than the language used to describe us. Our possibilities are wider than any category printed next to our name. A job description outlines tasks, not essence. A diagnosis outlines challenges, not character. Still, labels influence how others interpret us, and more importantly, how we interpret ourselves. The tension between practicality and meaning is exactly where this conversation belongs.

Why Labels Are Useful, and Why They Still Fall Short

Anyone who has navigated the healthcare system or worked within a structured profession knows labels can play an essential role. A medical diagnosis gives access to treatment, accommodation, and in many cases, life-saving interventions. A professional title communicates expertise, clarifies responsibilities, and affects compensation. There is nothing inherently harmful about having a label. The issue develops when that label starts replacing the lived experience of being a whole person.

Psychologists at Stanford and the University of Minnesota have spent decades studying the relationship between identity and self-concept. Their findings often highlight that humans tend to internalize repeated descriptors, even when they are incomplete. A term intended to guide treatment, such as “breast cancer patient,” can slowly become an identity anchor long after treatment ends. Similarly, a high-performing professional can absorb “manager,” “coordinator,” or “specialist” so deeply that career transitions feel like a threat to their worth.

This article is not a dismissal of labels. It is an invitation to avoid letting them do more than they were designed to do.

The Day a Job Title Almost Became a Personality

Years ago, a colleague of mine, a brilliant researcher with a calm presence and sharp wit, confessed something that surprised me. Her role had become so central to her identity that she felt empty when she took a leave of absence. She said she missed being “the expert,” not because she enjoyed authority, but because it felt like the only version of herself people respected. Without the title, she wondered who she was.

That moment stayed with me because it showed how easily a job description can stretch into a self-description. She was still compassionate, observant, and intellectually curious during her leave, yet she believed those qualities mattered less without the reinforcing structure of work. It took several months, and eventually a change in workplace culture, for her to see that her personality existed before her credentials and would continue afterward.

Career experts have noted that this struggle is becoming more common. With automation, remote work, and shifting industries, professional identities feel less stable. A title might change six times in one career, but the core person remains. The clarity comes from recognizing the difference.

The Diagnosis That Tried to Rewrite Someone’s Entire Story

I also remember interviewing a woman named Carmen for a community project centered on resilience. She had been diagnosed with a chronic autoimmune condition in her late twenties. At first, the diagnosis brought relief because it explained years of confusing symptoms. Over time, it started to overshadow her entire sense of self. She told me she worried people saw her illness before they saw her intelligence or humor. Even strangers treated her differently.

Carmen eventually worked with a therapist who helped her distinguish between the fact of her condition and the meaning she attached to it. She did not need to pretend the diagnosis did not exist, but she learned she did not have to let it determine the story she told about herself. This shift changed her entire approach to life. She returned to painting. She started dating again. She rebuilt friendships. Her diagnosis stayed part of her narrative, not the headline.

Where Science Supports the Idea of a Bigger Identity

Identity construction is not abstract philosophy, it has a biological foundation. Studies from UCLA on neuroplasticity show that people can alter the way they think about themselves through consistent reframing. When someone repeatedly tells themselves that they are “just a patient” or “just an analyst,” the brain wires around that repetition. When they broaden the language to include values, interests, and strengths, their perception expands.

In behavioral science, this is known as a “self-distancing shift.” The more accurately someone describes their experiences rather than their labels, the more flexible their thinking becomes. This is part of why reflective practices, like journaling or guided prompts, have measurable psychological benefits.

None of this negates the reality that a diagnosis can be life altering or that a job title can influence daily responsibilities. It simply places them within a larger frame.

Why Some People Resist This Message

When sharing a perspective like this, it is natural to anticipate pushback. Some people rely on labels for empowerment, especially individuals who find community in neurodiversity, disability justice, LGBTQ+ identity, or cultural heritage. Those labels are often sources of solidarity, safety, and political recognition. The point here is not to minimize identity-based labels, especially those tied to lived experience and social belonging. The goal is to differentiate between the labels we choose and the labels that are assigned to us.

Others may question whether it is realistic to expand identity when someone is facing serious medical challenges, traumatic experiences, or socioeconomic barriers. This concern is valid. Not everyone has the same resources or bandwidth for introspective work. Yet even in constrained circumstances, research from multiple trauma-informed disciplines shows that having a sense of self beyond a label improves mental health outcomes and resilience. This is not about ignoring hardship, it is about supporting the person who lives through it.

Expanding Who You Believe Yourself to Be

The process is rarely quick. Someone recovering from chemotherapy, navigating a new disability, or rebuilding after a career setback will naturally feel consumed by the most immediate challenges in front of them. Identity work often begins later, when emotional space returns. In those quieter moments, the habits that reconnect us to a broader self can be surprisingly practical. A short morning reflection, a grounding routine, or a weekly conversation with someone who sees us clearly can gradually shift internal language.

Therapists, executive coaches, and physicians often emphasize that self-concept is an evolving construct. No single version is permanent, which means no label is final. It is possible to acknowledge a diagnosis while holding space for strength. It is possible to respect a job title without becoming confined by it. It is possible to be a whole person in a world that prefers categories.

A Case Study From Organizational Culture

A few years ago, a nonprofit in California conducted a voluntary internal study after noticing staff felt defined by their roles in ways that limited collaboration. Program managers felt siloed. Coordinators felt invisible. Senior leaders felt obligated to perform a persona rather than show up authentically. The organization implemented a year-long identity and strengths-based intervention, grounded in research from the Center for Positive Organizations.

Staff met monthly in small groups to discuss moments when they felt most like themselves. They shared stories about family, creativity, community work, and struggles that shaped them. Within three months, cross-department conflict decreased. By the end of the year, many employees reported feeling more connected, valued, and recognized for traits that had nothing to do with their titles. Productivity improved, but more importantly, people felt human again.

This is what becomes possible when identity widens.

A More Honest Conclusion About Labels

You can keep your label. You can even appreciate it. Labels help with access, clarity, treatment, compensation, and communication. They can be empowering, protective, and politically important. The goal is not to erase a diagnosis or pretend a job description has no meaning. The goal is to avoid shrinking your identity to a single word, especially one chosen by someone else.

Your strengths existed before the label. Your capacity for connection, imagination, and resilience existed long before someone assigned you a category. You are allowed to hold your reality while still becoming more than any language used to describe it.

The challenging question to ask yourself, and the most meaningful place to begin, is this, Who am I outside of what I’ve been called?

If you feel inspired to explore that question, I’d love to hear your reflections. How have labels shaped or challenged your sense of self, and what parts of you deserve more space in your personal story?