Recently I’ve realized that it deeply irks me that I don’t have a “profession.” Meaning that if a child were to ask me what I did, I would have no idea how to answer in a way they would understand. Although I have lots of bullets on my resume, and I can obviously describe what I do, I cannot say seem to say what I “am.”

I am without a label.

Or, more accurately, I am without an identity.

My father was an entrepreneur, so I grew up with the assumption that I would be an entrepreneur too. However, as I’ve recently realized, defining entrepreneur is actually quite difficult.

Thinking about this further, it’s not just hard to tell a child what I do. I realized it’s really hard to tell anybody what I do. Usually, I just say that I’m in marketing. One word answers are bad. It’s the politician’s answer. Polite, but vague, which is exactly why I say it. I use it as a way to answer the question, but abruptly end the questioning right then and there.

I especially do this when I’m meeting somebody for the first time, because I probably haven’t had a chance to stalk them in advance, which means I’m likely feeling befoogled. So, instead of offering information about myself up front, I listen, get context, and see where I might fit in with that person. Figure out the best way to relate to them. It’s much easier for me that way.

Because at the great cocktail party of life, people don’t ask you who you are. They ask you what you do. As far as I can tell, it seems that in all of history, for as long as humans have been working, your job has equaled your identity. What you do IS who you are.

But I