A note for anyone trying to figure out who they are or who they want to be.
The world tells us we should label ourselves. We should self-identify. It’s not good enough or useful enough to simply show up as a “human being”, or even as a “veterinarian.” We should let people know we are “companion animal veterinarians with an emphasis on feline internal medicine,” or we are “veterinary assistants working to go to nursing school,” or whatever. To make things even smoother, we should have letters behind our name that shout our specific expertise loud and proud.
“I’m a Certified Veterinary Practice Manager. You can count on me to manage your clinic.”
“I’m a Certified Veterinary Pain Practitioner. I’m the person who studies and advocates for pain management.”
“I’m a Certified Veterinary Journalist. I’m someone qualified to communicate things happening in the field of veterinary medicine.”
See? Simple. Smooth. Useful.
For years I tried to define who I am and what I do in this fashion. I told the people at my first job I was a small animal vet with a strong interest in surgery. I told marketing people at pet toy manufacturers that I was a YouTuber targeting the pet parent market. I told customs officers that I was an international business consultant with a “global perspective.” (The latter two feel at least as gross today as when I said them).
None of the labels I tried fit very well. None of them gave me any real confidence or clarity about who I am or what will become of me in the future.
Looking back, the labels had only one effect that I could see: they allowed others to very quickly put me into a box.
When I was getting started doing some consulting work in the veterinary industry, I had a mentor who was well established. I had known him for over a year when I found out that he was a veterinarian. I was shocked to learn that this person had a doctorate that he didn’t talk about and that wasn’t on his business card. When I asked him if he wanted me to call him “doctor” he said “please don’t.”
He explained that if some business-type people know you’re a veterinarian, they will immediately put you into the box in their minds for people who work with animals. Your ability to influence them or to find opportunities working with them in areas that don’t involve you wearing a stethoscope are immediately diminished. My mentor went to great lengths to shed a label that he should have been proud of, because people used it to dismiss him.
I don’t think people intend to judge others constantly, but they do. We are all distracted, busy, and seeking mental short cuts to make the world less taxing. If someone is a veterinarian, it’s mentally easy to drop them into the “animal healer” box and go on. If they are a teacher, they go into a mental box. If they are a fund raiser, lecturer, customer service expert, etc, they get filtered quickly and efficiently. Every label has a box, and once we are in that tidy little box, we aren’t a messy, interesting human with unknown potential.
This isn’t good for those of us in boxes who want to grow, change, or try new things.
Women have (rightfully) railed against being put indiscriminately into the “mom” box that limits their career options.
Vet technicians have been dropped into the “cheap labor” box and paid with pizza parties.
Dog breeders have been swept into the “problem client” box by people who have never even spoken with them.
Please don’t take what I”m saying to mean that you shouldn’t be proud of your certifications, accomplishments, or knowledge. My point in all of this is to say that being labeled and dropped into a box rather than being seen as a unique human being with endless potential really sucks. Also, when someone slaps a label on us, we have a bad habit of accepting the label and using it to identify ourselves and our value to others.
Friends, it’s possible to be who you are without giving people a label to slap across your forehead. It’s feasible for you to be a parent sometimes, a teacher sometimes, an expert, a comedian, a naturalist, a dancer, etc. We can’t prevent people from using their boxes, and it’s helpful to let people know what we care about and why they might want to engage with us. At the same time, we don’t have to buy into the label game. We don’t have to accept the boxes people give to us, and we sure as hell don’t have to internalize the labels that others find convenient for us.
Labels and mental boxes make it easy for people to sort you. This makes their lives easier, but not yours. It also limits their ability to know you. It’s lazy thinking done by busy people. Don’t accept their shortcut as your truth.
About the photo: Posing with some of the O.G. Uncharted members (and my good friends!) at an Uncharted Vet event at Western Veterinary Conference 2025!
