It’s Just What You’re Walking Through. It’s Not Your Identity.

Tayler Meade
Oct 5
3 min read

Last year, I was hit with the hardest season of my life—physically, mentally, and spiritually. At only 25, I was hit with an overload of chronic and mental illnesses. It truly felt like the end of the world. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I was constantly at the doctor's, searching for answers. On top of my usual panic and anxiety disorder, I suddenly started dealing with OCD and AFRID too.

It felt like life was falling apart.

And for a while, I let my illness become my identity.

I stopped going places out of fear of flare-ups. I avoided hangouts out of fear of germs. I stopped eating out of fear of getting sick. I constantly researched symptoms and journaled about every new worry (Just look back through my blogs). My whole world revolved around what was wrong with me.

Looking back now, I can see it clearly: I wasn’t just living with an illness; I was living as if my illness was who I was.

But a friend reminded me of something that changed everything:

“This is what you’re walking through. It’s not who you are.”

When Illness Feels Like Your Name

Maybe you can relate. Perhaps you’ve been walking through something hard, like chronic illness, anxiety, or depression, and somewhere along the way, it started to feel like that’s just who you are.

I want to pause and tell you something I wish someone had told me sooner:

You are not your illness. Mental or physical.

Yes, you may struggle with anxiety. Yes, you may walk through depression. Yes, you may deal with chronic pain or mental battles that feel endless. But those things are not your identity. They’re part of your story, not your name.

A Story That Reminds Me

In Luke 8:43-48, there’s a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years. She had spent everything on doctors, but nothing worked. She was seen as “unclean.” Her sickness wasn’t just her struggle; it became her identity to everyone around her.

But then she touched the hem of Jesus’ garment. Instantly, she was healed. And even more powerful, Jesus stopped, looked at her, and called her daughter.

Notice this: He didn’t call her “unclean.” He didn’t call her “sick.” He called her by her true identity. His daughter.

And that’s precisely what He does for us. Anxiety doesn’t name you. Depression doesn’t name you. Your illness doesn’t name you. Jesus does. And He calls you His child.

Shifting the Way We See Ourselves

One of the biggest things that helped me was learning to reframe the way I spoke about myself. Instead of saying, “I am anxious,” I began saying, “I struggle with anxiety.”

That one word, struggle, was a game-changer. It reminded me that anxiety is something I face, not something I am.

Friend, the same is true for you. Whatever you’re walking through, it doesn’t erase who God says you are.

Some Practical Steps

Here are a few things that helped me and might help you, too:

1. Reframe your words. Don’t attach “I am” to your illness.

2. Anchor yourself in Scripture. Speak verses like Isaiah 43:1 over yourself daily: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”

3. Don’t isolate. Illness tries to keep us alone, but healing grows in community.

4. Surrender daily. You don’t have to carry it all. Give your fears to God every single morning.

5. Celebrate progress. Even the smallest step forward is still forward.

A Final Word

Friend, if you’re in a season where what you’re walking through feels like it has swallowed you whole, please hear me: it doesn’t define you. It may be a part of your journey, but it is not your identity.

Jesus looks at you the same way He looked at that woman in the crowd. He doesn’t call you by your struggle. He calls you by your true name: beloved child of God.

It’s not your identity. It’s just what you’re walking through.

A Prayer for When You Feel Defined by Illness

“Lord, I thank You that my illness does not define me; You do.

Remind me that what I’m walking through is not my name.

When I am tempted to say, ‘I am anxious,’ or ‘I am broken,’ help me to remember that I am Yours.

Speak Your truth louder than the lies of fear.

Anchor me in Your Word, surround me with Your presence,

and remind me daily that I am Your child; redeemed, chosen, and loved.

In Jesus’ Name, Amen.”