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’m not a human doing. I’m a human being. When I stop doing, what remains?

It seems to me that, perhaps for the first time in history, we cannot base our identity solely and exclusively on our career. Because it’s not just about deciding what to DO with yourself anymore. It’s about figuring out WHO you are. Which is far more difficult and challenging, not to mention terrifying.

It’s scary to the point of actually being immobilizing.

I’m good at doing lot of things, but what I think I’m best at is working hard. I am an expert at applying myself to be good at just about anything once I decide I want to be good at it. And not for one second do I delude myself to believe that I’m unique in this. I think that my entire generation, as a whole, is really fucking good at doing things, whatever those things might be.

The real problem here is that the reason we’re so good at doing things is because for our entire lives, we’ve been told to do things.

I don’t think this is problem can be accurately attributed to the people in our generation, but rather the environment in which we’ve been raised. All throughout our lives of school, my generation has been acclimated to follow a model for success that looks something like this: Do these 5 things, get to the next level. Then do these 10 things, get to the next level.

We arrive at college, and the model seems awfully familiar. You’re an [insert major here], so take these classes, earn this many credits, get your degree, then get to the next level. It looks and feels the same as the model we’re accustomed to. But it’s missing that “next level” part that’s always been built-in for us.

So, we go to our career centers. And we ask, what do [insert major here] people do? The career center replies with a question. “Well, what is that you want to do?” At this point, the panic starts to slowly set in. We have no idea. We ask again, “Well, I don’t know. What do [insert major here] people USUALLY do?”

My generation doesn’t know what the next level is. Or even how to go about figuring out what the next level might be. Thus, my generation has learned and continues to learn (the shockingly hard way) that a major in college doesn’t translate into a career path anymore.

I know it’s true for me. It’s really, really, really difficult for me to decide what I want to do. Not what other people think I should do, or what I think other people think I should do.

We’re a generation of people who have been raised to believe we can do anything. And honestly? We’re a generation of people who probably could do just about anything we wanted.

But when you can do anything, what do you actually do?

It’s been proven that too much choice is crippling, and I believe that’s largely the root of the problem my generation faces. We’ve never learned how to make decisions, especially about our futures. We’ve only learned how to exponentially multiply our options and then eternally dwell in the possibilities.  We’ve always been given a map to success, every single step of the way. At some point though, the trail extends off of the map we’ve been given. And we’re forced to find our own path. Choose our own adventure.

It’s hard for anyone to know who they truly are. Furthermore, knowing yourself is not an end point, it’s a constant, continual process. Which is why you should forget the soul search, and just do something. You’ll learn who you are through the process of making your own choices and making your own mistakes. It’s okay if you don’t get it right the first, second, or even fifth time. Ready, fire, aim. Start somewhere and then optimize for happiness.