Have You Ever Undergone a Personality Transformation?

Do others ever feel as if a major transformation is on the horizon, even though it hasn't fully revealed itself yet? A transformation in perspective or in character? I can't quite capture it in words, but a fleeting yet recurrent vision intrudes upon the mind—brief, vivid glimpses—of events in my life that are to come, and an urgent sense that there's a gap between who I am now and who I need to become to navigate them with a semblance of success. Surely, I can't be the only one who has experienced this sensation, for I've felt it more than once myself.

“Nothing her mother had taught her was of any value whatsoever now and Scarlett's heart was sore and puzzled. It did not occur to her that Ellen could not have foreseen the collapse of the civilization in which she raised her daughters, could not have anticipated the disappearings of the places in society for which she trained them so well. It did not occur to her that Ellen had looked down a vista of placid future years, all like the uneventful years of her own life, when she had taught her to be gentle and gracious, honourable and kind, modest and truthful. Life treated women well when they had learned those lessons, said Ellen. 

Scarlett thought in despair: "Nothing, no, nothing, she taught me is of any help to me! What good will kindness do me now? What value is gentleness? Better that I'd learned to plow or chop cotton like a darky. Oh, Mother, you were wrong!" 

She did not stop to think that Ellen's ordered world was gone and a brutal world had taken its place, a world wherein every standard, every value had changed. She only saw, or thought she saw, that her mother had been wrong, and she changed swiftly to meet this new world for which she was not prepared.” 

- Gone With the Wind, Margaret Mitchell.

The First Rebirth

A particularly significant moment when I felt this transformation was in 2017. That year, I moved out of my parents' house and relocated to a new city to live on my own. It wasn't just the city and the newfound independence that were new; it felt like my entire life was in transition. In the initial weeks of settling into Bangalore, the city where I resided at the time, I grappled with the stark realisation that I needed to change drastically to thrive in this new environment. Failure to do so seemed tantamount to being consumed by a predator. My existing personality traits fell short of what was required to succeed in my new job, given what was at stake — providing for a dependent parent. Up until then, I had been an agreeable and introverted 22-year-old. But over the course of a few months, my personality changed dramatically, and those changes persist even today, even though my responsibilities have eased. 

The work itself wasn't the challenge—it was everything else. I had to engage in conversations with colleagues who were 5-6 years older to me, more educated, had more work experience and knew the local language. I needed to offer valuable ideas in a lean startup setting to be included in critical discussions. I had to negotiate my salary and build a niche skill set to secure my place in the industry. None of this was possible with my old laid-back approach. I had to change, and fast. And change I did, and with it came the rewards of professional growth. 

That year, I stepped far outside my comfort zone. I started talking to people at my office about more than just work, and even strangers in the city. I quickly became more assertive and less agreeable. My posture improved; I stood taller and walked with more poise. I dressed in sharper formal outfits, and my confidence soared. Now, if I'm in a room with ten people working on a project, I naturally take the lead. Many of these changes occurred almost instinctively, but in hindsight, I understand the underlying motivations driving my brain's response. 

Carl Jung would likely describe this experience of transformation as an instance of his "rebirth" motif. Rebirth, in Jungian terms, refers to a significant psychological transformation or renewal, akin to a death and rebirth of the self. It's not just about changing superficial behaviours, but a deeper restructuring of one's psyche.

“Oh some day! When there was security in her world again, then she would sit back and fold her hands and be a great lady as Ellen had been. She would be helpless and sheltered, as a lady should be, and then everyone would approve of her. Oh, how grand she would be when she had money again! Then she could permit herself to be kind and gentle, as Ellen had been, and thoughtful of other people and of the proprieties, to. She would not be driven by fears, day and night, and life would be a placid, unhurried affair. She would have time to play with her children and listen to their lessons. There would be long warm afternoons when ladies would call and, amid the rustlings of taffeta petticoats and the rhythmic harsh cracklings of palmetto fans, she would serve tea and delicious sandwiches and cakes and leisurely gossip the hours away. And she would be so kind to those who were suffering misfortune, take baskets to the poor and soup and jelly to the sick and "air" those less fortunate in her fine carriage. She would be a lady in the true Southern manner, as her mother had been. And then, everyone would love her as they had loved Ellen and they would say how unselfish she was and call her "Lady Bountiful."” 

- Gone With the Wind, Margaret Mitchell.

Rebirth 2.0

The irony of the present however, makes me chuckle, which is a relief—I’m glad I didn’t lose my cheerfulness even though much of me became dead wood during this transformation. It’s 2024, and I'm 29 years old. Now I realise that I need to undergo another rebirth, returning to the more agreeable and easygoing version of myself that I sacrificed at the altar of professional advancement. In other words, I must adopt a more flexible and easygoing approach. Once again, my current personality traits fall short of the mark for the path I've chosen. Otherwise, I risk underperforming in my upcoming endeavours of marriage and motherhood, looming on the horizon. 

I have no idea how long this reversal will take: I can be quite disagreeable, assertive, and prefer to take charge. I struggle with laziness or incompetence, and delegating doesn't come naturally. Over the past seven years, I've been in roles with authority and decision-making power. I act quickly, try to maximise efficiency at every moment and feel uneasy if things move too slowly. However, I’m optimistic about my success because I've answered the call to this adventure. Whenever I lose patience or feel the urge to systematise everything, I remind myself what I need to work on.

“"If you are trying to devil me," she said tiredly, "it's no use. I know I'm not as—scrupulous as I should be these days. Not as kind and as pleasant as I was brought up to be. But I can't help it, Rhett. Truly, I can't. What else could I have done? What would have happened to me, to Wade, to Tara and all of us if I'd been— gentle when that Yankee came to Tara? I should have been—but I don't even want to think of that. And when Jonas Wilkerson was going to take the home place, suppose I'd been—kind and scrupulous? Where would we all be now? And if I'd been sweet and simple minded and not nagged Frank about bad debts we'd—oh, well. Maybe I am a rogue, but I won't be a rogue forever, Rhett. But during these past years—and even now—what else could I have done? How else could I have acted? I've felt that I was trying to row a heavily loaded boat in a storm. I've had so much trouble just trying to keep afloat that I couldn't be bothered about things that didn't matter, things I could part with easily and not miss, like good manners and—well, things like that. I've been too afraid my boat would be swamped and so I've dumped overboard the things that seemed least important." 

"Pride and honor and truth and virtue and kindliness," he enumerated silkily. "You are right, Scarlett. They aren't important when a boat is sinking. But look around you at your friends. Either they are bringing their boats ashore safely with cargoes intact or they are content to go down with all flags flying."  

"They are a passel of fools," she said shortly. "There's a time for all things. When I've got plenty of money, I'll be nice as you please, too. Butter won't melt in my mouth. I can afford to be then." 

"You can afford to be—but you won't. It's hard to salvage jettisoned cargo and, if it is retrieved, it's usually irreparably damaged. And I fear that when you can afford to fish up the honor and virtue and kindness you've thrown overboard, you'll find they have suffered a sea change and not, I fear, into something rich and strange…"” 

- Gone With the Wind, Margaret Mitchell.

Many might argue that I don't need to completely revert to an older version of myself to move forward. Perhaps they're right—I may not need a total transformation. The specifics will become clearer as the goals draw nearer. I'm prepared for my career to take a hit as I shift from relentlessness to agreeableness. It might not be a significant hit, since an 8-year reputation in the industry has got to account for something, but a hit all the same. The choice between career and motherhood isn't solely about what a woman must do, but rather, who she should be. Do men face similar calls to change their personalities, or even reverse their transformations? I'd imagine they face the former, but I’m not sure about the latter. However, women undoubtedly do. I am one of those who seeks to answer.

Image Source: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (2001)