Embrace Your Inner Future Has-Been

When you see a picture of me, that’s not a beard. Part of it is an adolescent reaction.

For years, I had been forbidden by my employer to grow facial hair. It would look dirty on television (and admittedly, it takes me forever to grow.)

So when I left news, I grew a goatee. Then a full beard. But it was not just pure spite. I wanted to send a message that I wasn’t the teevee guy anymore. I look like that guy, but that’s not me. It’s a visual separation.

Facing the Past

I think I had been out of television for all of three months when I had an encounter in the grocery store. You know how you can zig-zag through the aisles, and someone else can zag-zig, so you keep running into them going the other way?

This woman was giving me the evil eye with each pass. I kept jogging my memory, trying to recall where I might have seen her. Did I do a story about her? Did I do a Crimestoppers report that sent her kid to jail? I had no idea.

I skipped a couple of aisles to get out of the way and continued shopping. After circling back to the aisles I missed, I pulled into line at the register. Just as I started setting my items on the conveyor belt, I felt a series of sharp pokes to the back of my shoulder.

It was Stink-Eye Lady.

“I know you…” she began.

“You used to be somebody!”

Face Forward

Most of the people I tell that story to think I was somehow insulted by that. I really wasn’t. I just laughed it off with her, and explained to her I wasn’t in the news business anymore.

As I write this, I am 2,308 days removed from working in news. I have not wanted to be back for a single one of those days. Yet I still run into people who swear they saw me on television just the other night.

I’m glad I didn’t invest so much identity into what I did, because when that goes away you’re rudderless.

And as much as I like to joke about my “Personal Brand,” that’s not “me” either. I’m more complicated than that, and bring more value than an icon.

Every so often, you need to embrace your inner has-been. Figure out which pieces of you are you, and which pieces are garments you can shed. Talking about what you do in a dead past-tense is a fine exercise in putting your accomplishments where they belong: in the past. Clinging to accomplishments like they are still active is a sign that you’re not quite ready to let go – that you’re not quite ready to take a leap and become something new.

Tap yourself on the shoulder if you need to, and don’t worry if it’s uncomfortable. Most things designed to get your attention aren’t comfortable, either.