Who am I if I stop?


It’s the middle of the night, you’re awake, and those questions have come back:

‘Who am I if I stop working so hard?’
‘Who am I without the success I seek?’
‘If I’m not winning, how do I remain relevant?’
‘Is this it? Have I worked my whole life for this?’

Many of us face these big questions alone, lying in silence, unsure who to talk to or even where to begin. So they go unanswered. We do what we’ve always done: we get up, we put our heads down and we go again.

Having worked for many years with high achievers in sport and business, I’ve come to believe these questions are not a sign that something has gone wrong, but a sign that something is ready to change.

We are all shaped by our formative experiences. Things we learned in childhood, strategies that may once have felt essential, can stay with us long after they were needed. Our early experiences shape beliefs about how best to navigate the world: what we need to do to be safe, to gain approval and to be successful.

These strategies contain real gifts. They may have helped us develop the drive, discipline and dedication that have contributed to our greatest achievements.

Yet they can also carry a hidden cost. When our sense of worth becomes dependent on what we achieve, success can never quite provide the lasting security, happiness or fulfilment we seek.

These patterns developed to protect us from the very fears that return in those quiet moments in the middle of the night. Putting our heads down and going again is the strategy in action – and it makes sense. It worked in the past, and there is every reason to believe it will work again.

Until it doesn’t.

We all reach inflexion points in our lives: moments when we recognise that doing the same thing is either no longer possible or no longer brings the rewards it once did.

The question is what we do in these moments.

For athletes, the inflexion point comes relatively early. The inevitable retirement from sport arrives when there is still so much life ahead of them. Outside sport, these moments are less obvious. Some creep up slowly, as the middle-of-the-night questions get louder and more difficult to ignore. Others arrive through significant life events.

That moment came for me when I was 40. I’d retired from my competitive playing career 15 years earlier, but I still found myself introducing myself as a lacrosse player. I was stuck in an outdated definition of who I was, believing that the success I’d achieved in sport was the greatest indicator of my worth as a human being. I knew I had the qualities and attributes to succeed in a new career, but I was still holding on to the belief that I would only be safe, worthy and loveable when I’d proved myself successful again.

I’d already moved from coaching lacrosse to teaching PE. I’d found new ways to push myself and compete – climbing, cycling, swimming. I had changed what I did, but I hadn’t changed what was driving me. I wanted to prove my capabilities in a new role. But I was tired. Tired of the relentless battle to beat personal bests, and tired of constantly measuring myself against the success of others.

There had to be another way.

I was used to setting goals, working with coaches and striving for things I hadn’t yet achieved. But perhaps it was time to look in a different direction. Rather than continuing to search for something outside myself, what might I discover if I began looking inwards?

That question opened up a whole new world.

It began a period of reflection and research that continues today. This is where the work of Human First was born. Since then, I’ve worked with hundreds of athletes and leaders, supporting them to discover who they are beneath and beyond the roles they play.

Through this work, I’ve come to recognise two pathways to consider: the Chameleon and the Caterpillar.

The first is the Chameleon – taking the drive, determination and competitive edge that have served us well in one environment and finding new ways to express them elsewhere. This can be a rich and rewarding path, opening up opportunities for new adventures.

But the Chameleon also offers the possibility of a profound inner journey. When we begin to understand the patterns driving us and find the courage to face our inner fears, we can loosen their hold and discover a different relationship with our strengths. We can still be ambitious, competitive and determined, but no longer because we need to prove our worth. What was once a compulsion becomes a conscious choice. Our strengths become something to celebrate rather than something we depend upon for our sense of self.

The second pathway, the Caterpillar, invites us to explore who we might be beyond the identity we’ve spent our lives building.

Where the Chameleon changes our relationship with the strengths we already have, the Caterpillar opens up the possibility of discovering the parts of ourselves those strengths may have kept hidden.

When we’ve relied on particular qualities to navigate the world, other parts of us may have remained in the shadows. The determined competitor may have lost touch with their sensitivity. The fiercely independent leader may struggle to be vulnerable or receive support. The person who has always put others first may never have discovered their own strength or authority.

The Caterpillar journey creates space for these unfamiliar qualities to emerge. It asks us to loosen our grip on who we believe we need to be, without knowing exactly what might take its place.

The butterfly isn’t an improved caterpillar; it is something else entirely.

This doesn’t mean forgetting who we once were, but it does mean letting go of some of the things that once felt essential for our survival. It can feel disorientating and exposing as we come out from behind the armour that once kept us safe. There are extraordinary possibilities on this path, but it requires a different kind of courage – one that isn’t found in simply putting our heads down and carrying on as before.

Both pathways are valuable. One is not better than the other, and many people navigate both at the same time. What matters is developing the awareness to make conscious choices rather than continuing to act from outdated habits.

This work isn’t meant to be done alone, and it certainly isn’t best done at 4am in the dark. It’s far better explored in the company of like-minded people, supported by those who understand the journey.

Human First was created to support athletes through their transition beyond sport, recognising that the emotional journey of identity change matters just as much as finding a new direction or source of income. Our work brings together coaching, therapeutic and contemplative practices to help people understand the patterns that have shaped them, reconnect with their essential qualities and discover greater freedom in how they choose to live.

In 2027, we’ll open this work to people beyond the sporting world: high achievers in business and elsewhere who find themselves at similar inflexion points, asking the same questions.

Our programmes aren’t necessarily about becoming a better version of ourselves. They’re about discovering a different relationship with who we are, and perhaps possibilities we hadn’t previously imagined.

If this sounds familiar, and you recognise those middle-of-the-night questions, you don’t have to answer them alone.

Please get in touch – I’d love to hear from you.

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