Hey honeys and hustlers,

"What do you do?" I can't remember how many times I've been asked this at a networking event, conference, or while making dreaded small talk. It's a question that I've answered a million different ways for a thousand different reasons. There are many ways to live an amazing life. The perceived status of the title you hold does not equate to the substance of the life you want. There are many different ways to get abundant amounts of joy, purpose, or freedom out of your life and career.

I associate a lot of my self-worth with my productivity and creativity. Not good, I know. I've been working on it. And in the process of coming to terms with how to describe who I am and what I do to others, I've realized that my title doesn't really matter—but I think I know the best way to help you find the one that feels most fitting for you.

Titles carry weight. They open doors, close others, and shape how people perceive us before we even speak. But somewhere along the way, titles began to define us rather than describe us. Think about it:

These statements aren't about what we love or what fulfills us. They're about external validation, prestige, and the stories we tell ourselves about what success should look like. If you’re an entrepreneur, aka in a career where your title isn’t pre-defined, you're especially vulnerable to this trap. We're constantly building personal brands, crafting bios, and positioning ourselves in the market. But when we become too attached to a specific title or identity, we risk missing opportunities (personally and professionally) that don't fit the narrow box we've created. The people worth connecting with don't care about your title anyway. They care about your work, your ideas, and the unique way you see the world.

Very few of us do just one thing anymore. You might be a:

Portfolio careers are becoming the norm, not the exception. Yet we're still operating with an outdated societal expectation that demands we pick one title and stick with it. When someone asks "What do you do?" at a networking event, you probably feel that familiar panic: Which version of myself should I present? Which title will be most impressive? Which identity will help me in this specific context? This constant shape-shifting and code-switching is exhausting. Worse, it pulls us away from the work we actually want to do and toward work that validates the title we've chosen.

I've watched talented people stay in miserable situations because leaving would mean giving up a prestigious title. The Google employee who's burned out but can't imagine not having that logo on their LinkedIn. The doctor who spent a decade in school who can't admit they'd rather be doing something else. The agency creative director who dreams of freelancing but fears being "just" a freelancer. The title becomes a trap. It defines your self-worth, shapes your identity, and makes it nearly impossible to pivot without feeling like you're losing yourself in the process. As an introvert, I’m always naturally inclined to let my work speak for me. The titles I use now are a reflection of the work I’m most proud of, and the work I want to continue doing.

So how do you find a title that feels authentic to the career you have and want? Here are some questions I would suggest asking yourself:

1. What is most prevalent in my portfolio? Look at your body of work from the past year, or even two years. What type of projects dominate your portfolio? What are clients or collaborators consistently asking you to do? What words or niches do people associate with you based on your work? This isn't about what you studied or what your business card says—it's about what you're actually creating. Your most prevalent work reveals what you're naturally drawn to and what others recognize you for.

2. What future am I working toward right now? Your title should reflect not just where you are, but where you're headed. What skills are you developing? What kind of projects do you want to attract? What conversations do you want to be part of? If you call yourself what you're becoming, you give yourself permission to grow into that identity. Your title can be aspirational—a north star that guides your decisions and helps you say no to work that doesn't align with your vision.

3. Who do I want to become? This question focuses on character, skills, and impact. This is about growth.

4. What lights me up? Pay attention to your energy while working. Which projects make time disappear? Which conversations leave you energized rather than drained? Which parts of your work feel like play? Your title should point toward more of that, not less.

You're allowed to hold multiple titles simultaneously. You're allowed to create a title that doesn't exist yet. A title is a tool, not an everlasting truth. It's a shorthand for what you do, not a definition of who you are. At the end of the day, you're not building a resume (though those on the job search probably see this differently). You're building a life. And a life is far too complex, too beautiful, and too full of possibility to be reduced to a single title.

Yes, you need ways to introduce yourself. Yes, you need to position yourself in the market. Yes, titles serve a practical purpose. But don't let that practicality become a prison. Don't sacrifice joy for prestige. Don't stay in a role that's killing your creativity just because the title looks good on LinkedIn. Easier said than done, but stay with me since you made it this far. The best title is the one that gives you permission to do your best work. Everything else is just noise.

So, what do you do?

Maybe it's time to answer that question differently. Not with the title you think sounds impressive, but with the truth about what you love, what you're building, and where you're headed. That's worth so much more than any title could ever capture.