the false dichotomy of identity
So I just turned 40.
Whoa.
And 20-year-old me who thought 40-year-olds were pretty old?
Well…clearly she was misled. You know what they actually are?
Badass. Wise. Full of life experiences. Maybe a little tired from said life experiences…but still full-on badass.
Although stepping into my 40s, I’ve definitely had the who am I question roaming my head and heart. A lot of tears have also been shed around the thought that my 40s look nothing like I thought they would without my husband here.
So yes—as badass of a 40-year-old as I am, this has all been really hard.
And I’ve been pretty silent lately. It was intentional. Actually, it was a nervous-system requirement – like many of you, I have been ‘wintering’ hard.
And let me be clear: in my wintering I wasn’t figuring it all out having huge epiphanies—I was just being inside it.
In this case, “it” being this WTF place where you don’t yet have clarity on the lessons you’ve lived through—or the truth that’s quietly forming about where you’re headed. It definitely has “midlife crisis” vibes.
But to be clear, this isn’t just a “midlife” thing.
This sort of ‘identity lag’ between what is to come and what has been can happen at any point in life where there’s a significant shift in who you are—for any reason.
I think that’s why I’ve felt surprisingly stuck over the last few months. I’ve been sitting between stepping into a new decade, while also navigating a separate significant shift that I never expected.
And let me be clear: I wasn’t figuring it all out having huge epiphanies. I was just being inside it — this WTF place where you don’t yet have clarity on the lessons you’ve lived through, or the truth that’s quietly forming about where you’re headed.
It is possible to hold both/and.
It’s like I’m sitting with two forming identities at once.
A chosen identity — the one I’ve been consciously aligning with and putting effort toward becoming (I was genuinely excited to turn 40, for the record).
And an assigned identity — the one that arrived fully uninvited, and that I’m still picking up the pieces from.
If you reflect for a minute…what identity — or identities — have you been stepping into?
Whether it’s one or many, they all matter.
They shape you.
They inform your choices.
They quietly transform the woman you are becoming.
But what I’ve struggled with is the false dichotomy our culture holds when people are living inside more than one story — the belief that we have to choose one identity over the other.
That it’s either: heal and stay small or go big and build the dream.
For me, actively creating and dreaming into one identity while healing and integrating another felt impossible — like those two realities couldn’t exist at the same time.
Because we’re not really taught how to hold both/and.
We’re taught either/or as the only way to make sense of life.
But there’s another way.
You can be expansive and grieving.
You can build a legacy you’re deeply proud of and tend to the wounds that make doing it alone unbearable.
Because sometimes life doesn’t reflect your identity.
Sometimes it interrupts it.
And when that happens, the work asks for integration alongside creation.
I am still learning how to build a heart-led business and step into an entrepreneur identity while integrating a widow and single mom identity.
Both are already here in my reality. But not in the way I know they can be.
Right now, some of it still feels survival-based. Fragmented. Tender.
And yet I can sense a more expansive, easeful, grounded version of both identities forming.
To access that, I’ve had to dig deeper into a truth my body knows before my brain fully believes it: I can hold both.
I’m not there yet.
I’m still working on it.
But working with my nervous system instead of against it — choosing to embody the regulated, aligned version of these identities even before life reflects them back to me — has been the critical piece.
This is what allows you to slowly hold new identities without abandoning your truest self in the process.
It’s what keeps you grounded and safe when everything you once operated from—every role, rhythm, reflection—feels unfamiliar.
I ‘m reclaiming agency inside what is, even when none of it makes sense.
We’re each a really important piece of the puzzle.
So now, I find myself slowly aligning with new truths about my identity—learning how to step toward a fuller picture of who I am becoming.
I’m reclaiming agency inside what is, even when none of it makes sense.
The confusion will likely remain.
The questions.
The what ifs.
But you know what else is here?
An unwavering love for myself.
For my future.
For the future I’m building on behalf of my husband, my kids, and this world.
It may feel like just a small piece of the puzzle—but each of our pieces matters more than we realize.
As for how I’ve been picking those pieces back up?
Stay tuned, loves. Part two is on its way.
Until next time — with all my love and soul,
Courtney
About the author
Hey there
I’m Courtney
I run Journey Through Bliss, a community I was inspired to create for high-capacity women who are ready to do things differently.
After walking through motherhood, profound personal loss and the unraveling of everything I thought I knew, I discovered that healing doesn’t happen through hustle or push—it happens in the pauses. That sacred, often uncomfortable space where we meet ourselves again.
I created this work because I needed it too. Not another thing to add to the list—but a way of being that integrates into real life.
In JTB, we focus on disrupting lifelong patterns by understanding and re-calibrating the nervous system, and on finding a clear, sustainable path through inner work and healing modalities that actually serve you in everyday life.
At the heart of my work is a simple but radical belief: we were all born with magic. We just forgot. And remembering is always worth it.
I’m here to help women do just that—individually, and together.
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