Recently, my wife and I attended a celebration for a dear friend and his wife on their first wedding anniversary.
They brought together relatives, friends, and colleagues. My friend is a semi-retired dentist, and he seated us with some of his fellow dentists. It was a wonderful evening, full of love, laughter, great food, dancing, and some really good wine.
One moment has stayed with me. When the DJ introduced the couple, he announced my friend as “Mister.” Right away, a few voices called out from the tables, “Doctor!” The DJ looked flustered and corrected himself.
I understood the impulse. Those guests were proud of their friend, and that title stood for years of training and a lifetime of work.
But it got me thinking about how easily a title can crowd out the person. It can cast a shadow over the individual and put an occupation or a degree in their place.
Because here’s what I saw in that moment: a couple radiating love and gratitude. It was an intensely beautiful moment. Did it matter that the DJ called him Mister? Judging by the smile on my friend’s face, he didn’t notice or care. For him, the moment was unspoiled.
Still, we live in a society that puts enormous weight on titles, sometimes more than on the person behind them. And for those of us leaving careers behind, those titles can be the hardest things to let go of. Doctor, Partner, Director, Vice President. These words told the world who we were, and often told us who we were, too.
When the title fades, what’s left is the person. As we lean into our Chapter X, the work is to focus on who we are becoming, what brings us joy, and how to live true to ourselves, with or without the letters after our names.
So, who are you when no one uses your title?
I’d love to hear your thoughts.
