In some careers, your job is not something you do; it is something you are. Medicine, acting, and politics are intimate, high-visibility professions that blur the lines between personal identity and professional role. You are not just executing a skill; you are bringing your whole self into the room, exposed and accountable.
When things are going well, that visibility can feel exhilarating. You are recognized, affirmed, even admired. Your face becomes the brand. You are your work.
But what happens when the applause fades? When criticism comes? When you lose a patient, an election, or your position? That is when knowing the difference between who you are and what you do becomes more than a mental exercise. It becomes life-saving.
In health care especially, the cost of identity fusion is profound. Physicians have among the highest suicide rates of any profession. When clinical outcomes are poor or the pressure mounts, many of us lack the tools or space to decompress, connect with our families, or reconnect with ourselves.
If your self-worth is tethered to performance, any perceived failure can feel like a personal collapse.
There are tools: mindfulness, movement, faith, volunteering, and community connection. These align with the principles of lifestyle medicine, which emphasize the core pillars of health: stress management, nutrition, movement, rest, community, and the reduction of harmful substances. But these tools require practice.
And that is the problem. We would not expect to run the Boston Marathon without training. We would not walk into the World Series having never picked up a bat. But we expect ourselves, and our colleagues, to weather burnout, vicarious trauma, and moral injury without the same investment in mental and emotional fitness.
Mental health is not a switch. It is a skill. And like all skills, it improves with repetition and intention.
This is our cultural opportunity: to infuse health care with the message that a person’s worth does not hinge on clinical outcomes or leadership wins. Yes, we should celebrate excellence. But we also must protect the human underneath the white coat.
Our goal is not digital perfection. It is human connection. Culture is not built in the boardroom; it is built in the OR, the nurses’ station, the call room. It is built in moments of empathy and integrity, when people feel empowered to do the right thing, not just for compliance, but because it aligns with their purpose.
Let us create the conditions for people to thrive, not just perform, and build health care systems that are as human as the people working within them.
Brooke Buckley is a physician executive.
