When the Job Becomes Your Identity

When the Job Becomes Your Identity

Something slowly happens when you work in the humanitarian system, especially within the United Nations. At first, it’s just a job. Over time, it becomes who you are.

This isn’t just for humanitarian workers; it applies to anyone. But in humanitarian work, especially in the UN, it runs deeper. The job doesn’t stay in the office. It follows you home—into your nights, weekends, and thoughts. You check emails late, worry about a difficult boss, and prepare to defend yourself. You’re constantly solving problems, justifying actions, and navigating office politics—all while responding to real emergencies.

Even during crises, like war or displacement, meetings are filled with politics. People highlight achievements or seek recognition. In all of this, we lose something very crucial: We lose ourselves.

The job becomes your identity. It shapes how you see yourself, how you introduce yourself, and how your children understand what you do. It becomes your answer to: “Who am I?”

And then — one day — the job ends.

You get let go, or the contract isn’t renewed. After years in the system, suddenly you’re outside it. It hurts, not just financially—especially where jobs are hard to find—but deeper. You’re left with a tough question: Who am I, now that I’m no longer “a UN staff member”?

I recently spoke to someone who worked in the humanitarian sector for nine years. She rarely took time off—the job was part of her. Then, suddenly, she was let go. Now, she’s struggling with depression and trying to figure out what to do next. And she’s not alone. Many are going through the same, especially after recent layoffs across the sector.

This is why we need to talk about this. The longer we stay silent, the deeper the wound becomes. It’s easy to say, “I’m fine” or “I’ll get through it,” but inside, it can feel like something is falling apart. We often don’t talk about it due to shame or pride. Losing a job—especially after years of dedication—can shake your identity. You may feel embarrassed or too proud to admit how much it’s affecting you. But pretending you’re okay doesn’t help. What helps is being real. Talk it through with someone you trust and say, “This is hard. I don’t know what to do.” If possible, seek help—not because you’re weak, but because you’re human. This pain doesn’t fade on its own. If we don’t face it, it can stay with us, quietly shaping our thoughts, emotions, and relationships in harmful ways.

To everyone who has recently lost a job: you haven’t lost everything. You may have lost a role, a routine, and a title—but you haven’t lost your value, your experience, or your potential. In fact, this could be the beginning of something new. A chance to rebuild your identity not as a job title, but as a whole person. A chance to rediscover yourself—your dreams, your strengths, your deeper purpose.

You are not your job. You are—and have always been—so much more.