How Many Labels Have You Collected in Life? Are They Still You?
Labels’ Reality
We collect them like vintage postcards — labels from others, from ourselves, from old dreams. But do they still fit?
Over the years, I’ve worn more labels than I can count. Some whispered. Others, I claimed, like medals. Letting go of a role, mom, boss, wife, healer, can feel like a tiny death and a wild rebirth.
I’ve picked up new ones lately: digital nomad, language learner, expat, late-blooming artist, boss, control freak, softie, and Vintage collector. (That one still cracks me up.)
We collect labels—some offered with love, others stuck on us by expectation. They cling like stitched name tags. But not all still fit.
Labels shape how others see us, but more deeply, how we see ourselves. Some uplift. Some confine.
Lately, I’ve asked: Which still rings true? Which belongs to a version of me I’ve outgrown?
So now I’m asking you: What labels have you carried? Which will you keep, rewrite, or leave behind?
Your story isn’t a name tag, it’s a living memoir. And you get to rewrite it. Ready?
Share in the comments—I’d love to hear.
