refusing to be just one thing in a polarized world

In a world increasingly defined by polarization, we face mounting pressure to simplify our complex selves into singular identities. This reductionism, the expectation that we must be just one thing, loyal to just one perspective, contradicts the richness of who we actually are. I've been reflecting on how we navigate our multiple selves: mother, professional, friend, citizen, and how these roles both intersect and exist independently. This complexity isn't just natural, it's necessary for our growth and authenticity, particularly in workplaces where cultural conformity can silence our multifaceted voices.

Our identities are linked to communities — both those that we choose and those that are chosen for us. At work, you have your colleagues and management, but you might also have work friends that you meet for coffee, a mentor you rely on for advice, or a network who shares your lived experiences. How we show up in these communities often differs, adapting to the role we play. As an employee, you might be more reserved in your day-to-day role, whereas you might appear more outspoken as a member of a workforce change committee.

These identities frequently exist in separate spheres. There were people in my work life with whom I would share much about my family, yet they never met my family in person despite living in the same city. My husband experienced something similar. We would often laugh because Monday to Friday he would go to work in a suit, but on weekends, dressed casually in his standard baseball hat, he became unrecognizable to colleagues he encountered.

I often marvel at this phenomenon. People from various communities in our lives can know intimate details about us, yet never intersect with our other identities. This separation allows us a certain freedom — I feel fortunate that I can exist in various spheres and hold different identities. Through exposure to this vastness of expression, I open myself to greater possibility and perspective.

Increasingly though, I've observed a troubling polarization of our identities. Society seems to demand that we declare allegiance to singularity. We are being forced to distill ourselves in the simplest of ways: one ideology, one political theory, one viewpoint. This pressure to simplify ourselves has profound implications beyond our personal lives. It shapes our political landscape, our workplaces, and our society at large.

Recently, I was listening to Sharon McMahon on Adam Grant's podcast Rethinking. McMahon articulated something my husband and I have been discussing for months: "Loyalty to your party, no matter what they say, no matter who they nominate, no matter what they do, that's actually a dangerous idea. That's never led a single country someplace worth going."

Just because we elect someone doesn't mean we must agree with, or worse, justify their every action. In fact, as citizens, our responsibility is to critically evaluate their actions, ensuring they serve our country's best interests. In a healthy democracy, disagreeing with a decision shouldn't exclude us from community membership as it increasingly does now. We live in an all-or-nothing world, and I would venture beyond McMahon's observation—this makes for a dangerously unstable society.

This dynamic extends beyond politics and manifests powerfully in our professional lives, where organizational culture often demands a conformity that denies our complexity. For many, identity becomes so intertwined with community that when the community — whether workplace, religious organization, or educational institution — moves in a particular direction, people follow with little critical assessment. Because we've identified with that community, we consider it fundamental to our identity.

But what happens when you disagree? Speaking out or stepping out of line not only jeopardizes your role within the community but also challenges your sense of self. Who are you when you no longer identify with the group you've considered yourself part of in such a polarized world?

This question challenged me deeply as an Executive in the public service. I frequently found my authentic identity as a leader in conflict with what the system expected me to be. Navigating this tension taught me that resisting forced simplification requires a different approach to identity—one that accommodates seeming contradictions and celebrates complexity.

The Power of AND

Many in the wellness and self-help communities have embraced the power of the word "AND," particularly when setting boundaries or parenting. Consider this example: "I can see it is hard for you to put away your toys now AND it is still time to go to bed." When applied to our identities, this simple conjunction becomes transformative, allowing us to incorporate different, sometimes competing aspects of ourselves.

Just as we can be a mother, AND a professional, AND a friend, AND a citizen, we can hold various ideologies and perspectives simultaneously. We can bring different viewpoints to conversations, creating richer, more nuanced dialogue. Perhaps most importantly, we can suspend judgment about the complex identities others embody.

In her book You're Not Listening, Kate Murphy observes how many people created online networks for social connection during the pandemic. However, as the world reopened, biases resurfaced —social signaling theory (judging people based on external markers like cars or educational institutions) and social identity theory (judging people based on political or gender affiliations) began creating new divides. People are now being assessed — socially and professionally — sometimes before they even enter a room, because of these affiliations.

Often, the people who bring the most richness to our lives are those who challenge our perspectives and prompt us to think differently. Creating space for healthy dialogue, both within ourselves and throughout our various communities, invites us to think more expansively than ever before. It encourages us to ask previously unconsidered questions and seek out diverse perspectives we might otherwise ignore.

By embracing the fullness of our complex identities and allowing others the same freedom, we not only live more authentically but also contribute to a society that values depth over simplicity, understanding over judgment, and connection over division.

Embracing the Maybe

In considering this journey toward embracing our complex, multifaceted selves, I am reminded of Mary Oliver's profound wisdom. Her poem "The World I Live In" speaks directly to the liberation that comes when we step beyond the rigid boundaries of certainty and singular identity. Oliver invites us into a world where possibility, the "Maybe", opens doors to deeper understanding: