Confessions of a Former Night Owl: Story and Reflection on Identity, Change, and Quiet Growth

We often resist change when it feels like it threatens who we are. But not all change is self-abandonment.

Not long ago, someone shared that she felt a surprising amount of grief around changing—even when the change was meant to help a relationship work better. Authenticity was a deeply held value for her. Adjusting how she communicated, how she showed up—it felt like she was betraying something core.

But as we unpacked it, the question shifted. Was this really about changing her identity? Or was it about learning to grow in a way that still aligned with her values?

That distinction—between change and growth—has been showing up in my own life, too. Turns out, identity shifts can also happen before sunrise. Ask me how I know. 🦉

Well - let me tell you - For most of my adult life, I proudly identified as not a morning person. This wasn’t new. As a teenager, I once bought myself a mug that said, “I’ll rise, but I refuse to shine,” as a not-so-subtle protest against my mom’s cheerful singing on Saturday mornings. (She meant well. I meant business.)

So no one was more surprised than me when things started to shift.

My husband and I had an idea: we wanted to work out together—for fun, for company, and for accountability (there’s something about knowing the other person is waiting that makes skipping harder). We also wanted to share some quiet time over coffee before diving into our work days.

There was just one problem: he’s an early bird. And I… was not.

He does his market analysis before the opening bell—which comes early when you live in Alaska. We tried post-work workouts, but our schedules were too unpredictable. One day I thought, what if I just tried getting up early?

And to my complete shock and dismay… waking up at 5-something didn’t feel any worse than waking up at 7. They were both terrible. 😂

So I leaned in. I used the sleep reminder on my phone to get myself to bed in time for a full eight hours. And it worked. Over time, I started to wake up earlier naturally—without an alarm. I still wouldn’t say I lovemornings… but I’ve become someone who lives in them.

And here’s the thing: for a long time, I resisted the idea partly because I thought it would mean giving up part of who I was. But it didn’t. It wasn’t self-betrayal—it was self-adjustment. A change in pattern that made space for something I wanted more than the identity of “night owl.”

Sometimes, growth looks like becoming a version of yourself you couldn’t picture before. And sometimes, it still needs coffee.

Reflection: What have you been hesitant to try—not because it’s wrong for you, but because it doesn’t looklike who you’ve been?

How might growth show up… even if it arrives before your first cup?

PS. My mom still has that mug.