Episode 11: I’m Losing Myself

Catch this episode on Apple, Spotify, or Android. 

Ever look in the mirror and wonder, “Where did the old me go?” In this episode we unpack the brain-and-hormone remodel that’s quietly reshaping ambitious moms—and prove it means you’re upgrading, not unraveling.

You’ll learn a neuroscience-backed pause-and-label trick, craft a bridge thought that melts “I’m losing myself,” and run a one-sticky-note experiment that turns everyday moments into solid evidence of your evolving strengths.

By the end you’ll walk away with a calmer mind, concrete proof you’re still every bit as capable (just calibrated for a new season), and a clear micro-action plan you can start today.

What You'll Learn

• How to spot the “identity-shift” fog and understand the hormone-plus-brain science behind it (nothing’s wrong with you!).
• Pause and label sneaky thoughts like “I’m losing myself” so they lose their power.
• Channel each body-breadcrumb—tight chest, snack-bin obsession, spreadsheet boredom—as data for building your new identity, rather than treating them like emergencies.
• Run the C-T-F-A-R + bridge-thought combo to rewire unhelpful stories into kinder, truer ones.
• Test one tiny action a day to gather real-world proof that the new you is already emerging.

Episode Transcript

Today I want to talk about those moments when you look in a mirror and feel like you don’t recognize yourself. It’s the same face, but maybe the circles under your eyes look darker or maybe the button‑down that once made you feel sharp and professional now hangs all wrong. If you’re like me, in these moments, tiny questions like, Who is this person? Am I losing myself? might creep into your brain. 

I lived in these moments big time in the spring and summer of 2020. My newborn wasn’t gaining weight, my two-year old needed me every minute, and the career that had been the biggest part of my identity was on hold. And my body felt like someone else’s—no more early‑morning runs, my muscles had softened, and the bright clothes in my closet felt tight and out of style. 

If that sounds familiar, you’re in good company. I’ve coached dozens of women in their 30s and 40s—especially moms with young kids—who describe the same hazy feeling that they are losing themselves. 

That’s what we’re talking about today: how to work with those brain and hormone changes—growing through the shift and updating your self-concept instead of trying to go back to who you were or toward who you think you should be. And of course you can change your career or your partner or your face or your body, but if you don’t change your mindset, the dopamine from these external changes will fade. So let’s talk about how to do that.

SEGMENT 1: CREATE SELF-AWARENESS

The first step is always self‑awareness—noticing your thought patterns without turning them into emergencies. Self-awareness is the brief pause that moves you from subconscious autopilot to conscious choice.

As I previewed in the intro, my sense of self really started to wobble in 2020. When I noticed gradually that the clothes I used to wear didn't fit right, instead of upgrading my wardrobe to fit my new body, I hid in black and gray loose layers. Rather than swapping runs for walks or giving my skin a quick nightly wash, I neglected myself altogether, avoiding the mirror because of the mean‑girl commentary in my head. In reality, I was still in survival‑parenting mode and all of this made good sense for the season I was in, but my brain layered on self‑rejection that drained my energy even more than my parenting.

Another jolt came when I opened a spreadsheet for the first time after maternity leave. I like spreadsheets. I like strategic thinking. But I felt totally disinterested. I subtly beat myself up about that too, and in hindsight I see that I procrastinated and overcompensated so much by trying to over‑control everything at home—organizing every bin, perfecting routines—instead of working to trust myself more to handle each day.

But here’s what I know now that I’m out of the fog: those moments were pings from a body and brain under renovation, not proof that I was broken. I now know two critical things. One, as we move through our thirties and forties, estrogen and progesterone start a new rhythm that can blur focus, tilt mood, and change how our bodies store weight. When these hormones dip, serotonin dips too, so our patience ebbs and our moods swing. Sounds obvious, but I wasn’t paying attention. Cortisol also gets higher after months of patchy sleep, which can turn the small annoyances, like your husband chewing, into what feels like a fire alarm in your head.

And two, I now know what the brain is is kind of “use‑it‑or‑lose‑it.” It naturally trims circuits that we’re not using (like late‑night slide decks and eight‑mile runs) to make space for the skills that whatever season you’re in demands (like soothing a newborn while negotiating snack time with a toddler).

In your career, maybe increasing your awareness is noting that you tend to pause in a meeting to gather thoughts instead of firing off instant ideas; in your relationship, maybe it means noticing when you snap at your partner and wonder why; and in terms of your health, maybe it means simply noticing that even though you’re eating less, you’re not losing weight. Each instance can feel like something has gone wrong, but it’s really your body signaling that you’re mid‑update. This is all totally normal, and there’s no need to be mean to yourself about it. Just notice it.

So try a tiny experiment just to gain a little more self-awareness. The next time something feels off—the need for extra thinking time, the flare of irritability—pause for five seconds and name the thought that pops up, maybe it’s “I’m losing myself,” or “This isn’t me.” Label the thought and remind yourself: Nothing has gone wrong. This is normal for this season of life; my new identity is still taking shape.

SEGMENT 2: ALLOW YOUR HUMAN EXPERIENCE

Once you’ve named the thought, like “I’m losing myself,” notice the echo in your body. Your shoulders might creep up right before a meeting or maybe your intense reaction to your toddler belting out “Baby Shark” for the twentieth time feels like proof you’re slipping.

When you catch the flare from your body, rest your eyes on something still, breathe once, and label it: “Tight chest—afraid I’m fading.” That quick name tag calms the brain’s alarm so the next words to yourself come out softer. Research backs this up…simply putting words to a feeling quiets the amygdala and re‑engages the thinking cortex. One plain sentence to yourself—acknowledging that you’re a human having a normal human experience—can save you hours of over‑correcting or ruminating.

Each time you pause and label, I also offer that you can pick up a breadcrumb—like maybe trading the button‑down for a cardigan points to your brain’s need for self‑care and comfort, or the spreadsheet boredom is hinting that your mind craves a different work cadence or content.

Instead of meaning something has gone wrong and forcing yourself to be who you were, those breadcrumbs might be signaling that something is going right. They may show your priorities shifting so you can grow in new ways. For me, my brain started craving ease, mental breathing room, and overall wellness instead of the perfection‑driven schedule that had kept me successful for so long. These breadcrumbs are the reason I challenged myself to sign up for coach certification, even though at the time I had no plans to start a coaching business. I just honored that I was bored at work and needed something else to think about. The overstimulation I felt watching my husband chew or hearing my toddler yell forced me to carve out more introvert time, which has produced so much peace and creativity for me. By listening to what my body was telling me, I became more open to a different career path and started to be far less controlling at home.

So right now, or when you have a quiet moment, do a quick mental two‑column list:

- On one side, picture what feels forced right now: maybe that 5 a.m. workout, being in every meeting, the floral top you’ve worn for years.

- On the other side, picture what feels more fresh: maybe a slower walk, more thinking‑time at work, investing in a capsule wardrobe.

Don’t judge the list; you’re only collecting clues. Remember—raw data first, action later. You’re simply letting the human part of you speak without being shushed.

SEGMENT 3: ANALYZE YOUR HUMAN EXPERIENCE

The next step is to look a little deeper at our thoughts.

For me, an insight came the night before one of my first client calls after leave. The girls were finally asleep, I sat down to work on a slide deck, and my chest felt tight and hot. I took one slow breath, and put the coaching skills I was learning in my course to work. I named it—“chest tight, anxious”—and asked, What thought is creating this?

Sentences popped up fast: “They’ll think I’ve lost a step. I’m losing myself. I’m not as good as the old Amanda.” 

Seeing the thoughts in plain words is often enough self-coaching for me to realize it's not true, but I often use the self-coaching model to help my brain see the result the belief is creating for me. When our conscious brains can see that our subconscious thinking is creating an unwanted result, then it can start to realize that it's not useful.

This realization is how you "let go of a thought," get unstuck, and actually step into a new identity. You show your brain in black and white that the thought is no longer keeping you safe. Here's what that self-coaching model looks like. 

First we name the circumstance that we think is the problem:

My circumstance was that I had a 10 a.m. Zoom with the team and I was getting less sleep than I used to. 

My current belief, (which was subconscious until I noticed it), was that: I’ve lost my edge. They need the old me.

My feeling was anxiety.

From that place of anxiety, I noticed previous actions. I tended to over-prepare, over‑explain, apologize for background noise, shrink on camera.

The result I created for myself was less rest, less confidence, less boldness in presenting my out-of-the-box ideas, and overall not living up to my potential—exactly what I feared by thinking I’ve lost my edge.

I decided that I didn’t want to keep this thought anymore. It wasn’t creating a result that I liked.

When I notice a limiting belief like this, “They need the old me,” I always turn to Byron Katie’s first two questions from her method. I asked myself: Is it true that they need the old me? Can I absolutely know it’s true? The honest answer was no.

And then I asked myself, “Could the opposite be true?” That crack of doubt let in a new, gentler line: “Maybe I have a new edge. Maybe this version of me is better.” My shoulders dropped, and I could breathe.

Almost in a flash, in this scenario, I got the notion in my head that my colleagues care about solid solutions, not whether my tone matches 2015. They are not comparing me to my old self, I am. They are completely open to the new version of me.

This is the crux of all mindset work. Finding a little window in your brain to believe something more powerful than you do right now. From that tiny little window, I’ve ended up changing my entire life, but it all started in my head, not my actions. Those came later.

I challenge you to walk yourself through the same steps today. When you feel that knot under your shoulder blade or the swirl in your stomach, pause and ask, “What sentence is sitting here?”

Write the first words that surface—even if they sound dramatic.

Then tell the quick C‑T‑F‑A‑R version of your own story: the bare circumstance and facts that your brain thinks is the problem (like a 10 am meeting and less sleep), the thought, which is what you're making that mean and where you have all of the power, the feeling, what you tend to do when you are in that place of emotional suffering, and the result you create when that emotion is in charge.

Finally, question the thought with those two plain yes‑or‑no questions. Then try a gentler line you can believe right now—something like mine, “Maybe I have a new edge. Maybe this new me is profoundly better,” or even simpler and more general “Maybe it’s true that instead of losing myself, I’m finding myself.”

You don’t have to force the new sentence to stick; just notice whether your breath loosens when you read it.

SEGMENT 4: ALIGN TO WHAT YOU WANT

That quieter sentence—maybe I’m finding myself—is what I call a bridge thought. It doesn’t leap from I’m irrelevant to I’m crushing it; it just cracks the door open. The goal now is to walk through that door often enough that your brain starts treating the new hallway as familiar.

I wrote my bridge thought for that client meeting on a note on my monitor. “Maybe I have a new edge. Maybe this version of me is better”and I glanced at it for weeks.

This tiny reminder kept my confidence up, and it prompted me to think of all of the ways I had become a smarter worker since becoming a mom. I had learned to slice to the crux of the matter in a way that only moms juggling a million things can do. I had learned to explain things clearly and succinctly and to listen to understand more deeply to not just what my peers were saying but also for what might be underneath what they were saying, both things that felt surprisingly easy on a Zoom call after handling a million toddler tantrums. 

So pick a bridge line about your evolving identity that you can actually believe. Do the breath test: if your lungs loosen, keep it; if your stomach knots, tweak it.

And remember with any bridge thought, you’re just running an experiment: spot the old limiting belief and feeling, label them, offer your bridge, and then hunt for micro‑evidence in real time of your new belief in real time: one helpful comment, one nod on Zoom, one family blow‑up diffused. Each micro‑win splashes dopamine on the newborn neural pathway and tells the fear-based part of your brain, See? The new thought is safe. Change is safe. 

SEGMENT 5: TAKE AN INCREMENTAL ACTION STEP

If your bridge thought is ready for a field test, let’s give your brain proof it can’t ignore. Think of it as a daily micro‑experiment that touches the big three arenas: career, relationships, and self‑care.

Open a notes app or grab a sticky. Ask yourself one question: What tiny move would show the new me today?

Then pick just one from whichever arena feels loudest: 

Maybe at work, you block your calendar differently or cancel a few meetings.

Maybe  you swap the black leggings for something that reflects your personality instead of what you might wear to just get by—even if you only wear it for a midday coffee run.

Write the choice in five words or less: “Schedule time for me,” or “Wear the pink shirt.” Stick it where you’ll see it.

During the day, each time the old thought—I’m losing myself—pops up, try on your bridge thought: I'm finding myself, or whatever you have chosen, then act on the note. No drama, just the one move.

When you lay your head down to go to sleep, do a quick reflection on how practicing the thought played out:

Ask yourself two questions:

First, what happened? (felt relief, procrastinated less, wore the shirt, felt lighter).

Then, how did it feel? Did you feel a little prouder, a little looser, a little calmer, a little more in control, a little more energized? Just let your brain let that sink in for a moment.

This review helps the part of your brain trying to hold onto your old identity that this new identity is safe and useful, even if it’s different. And proof for your brain beats a pep‑talk every time.

CONCLUSION

Wow, so, amazing job. You just did real work. You spotted the moments that feel off, named the thought underneath, tested a bridge sentence, and took one small, confident action. That’s enough to prove to yourself you’re still in there—you’re just updating the operating system. You’re not broken; you’re human. You’re not lost; you’re upgrading. You are not losing yourself; you are finding yourself.