Living With Our “ManyMe’s”
"I contain multitudes." - Walt Whitman, from the poem “Song of Myself, 51”
Some years ago, one of my mentors shared with me that the practice of medicine is, to a certain degree, a “performance art” as we continually adapt ourselves to our patients, their context, and the dynamic environment we work within. He went on to share that as we rapidly shift from compassionate caregiver to decisive leader to so many other professional identities, there are many "me's" who can show up. This fluidity can be both empowering and exhausting, and it is part of what makes our work profoundly human, deeply impactful, and perpetually challenging.
The past week offered a remarkable reminder of just how many different versions of myself are invited into the exam room, including some that my mentor never warned me about. One patient asked if I would become their physician, drawing out trustworthy and grateful me, but also prideful me. Another who was unsatisfied with my care asked me to help them find a new physician, requiring me to swallow defensive me and invite helpful me to the conversation. Then there was the patient who cheerfully informed me that they really didn't "believe in" physicians, allowing me to suppress exasperated me and draw out understanding me.
Yet what struck me most as I reflected on all these visits was that somehow I was able to acknowledge the voices of these various "manyme's" and still show up as a better version of myself for that particular context. They met the listener, the encourager, the teacher, the curious me. They met upbeat me, calm me, uncomplaining me, humorous me, and the "never-in-a-hurry" me.
What these patients miraculously did not experience, even though they were also present, chattering away in the background, was frustrated me, weary me, rushed me, distracted me, mad-at-the-computer me, and some other not so lovely selves. Perhaps that is one of the quiet miracles of our work—not that we consistently feel like our best selves, but that despite everything, our patients so often receive exactly those parts of us they most need, and not the ones they don’t.
This week, I invite you to reflect on your own “manyme's", and in particular the less than lovely ones—what are their names, when do they like to show up, and how do you tame them? Consider sharing what you observe with your PeerRx partner or another colleague. Then remind yourself regularly that just because they are all true doesn’t mean they all deserve center stage. Save that for your best performers, the compassionate, encouraging, and deeply caring versions of yourself. It’s not easy, but you’ll get better with practice. Your patients, staff, and colleagues will be glad you did. And so will you ....