Shifting the Identity
- Kevin Primerano
- Dec 9, 2025
- 6 min read
What happens when a child becomes what they do—and how can we help them become who they are?
I was talking with a friend recently when she shared that another friend's son wanted to quit college football after his freshman year. His father wouldn’t allow him, which caused considerable underlying tension.
Here’s the part of that story that resonated with me: this boy didn’t become a “football
player” at 19. His identity had been shaped around that role long before he stepped foot on a college campus. Football wasn’t just something he did — it was who he was. An identity assigned to him, celebrated, and reinforced for most of his childhood.
Fast-forward a couple of decades, and that same boy — now in his 40s, with kids of his own — still struggles with a kind of unhealthy dependence on his family. It wasn’t a complete failure to launch, but it was definitely a shaky takeoff with long stretches of in-flight turbulence.
That conversation brought me back to an idea I see play out frequently in youth activities: what happens when a child’s entire sense of self is funneled into one role — the athlete, the musician, the straight-A student — before they have a chance to truly explore who they are.
As I was researching for this post, I came across a concept that precisely captures what I’ve observed unfold in real time for years: identity foreclosure.
The term was introduced by psychologist James Marcia in the 1960s while studying how adolescents form identity. In simple terms, identity foreclosure happens when a young person commits to an identity before they’ve had any real chance to explore who they are. They lock in early. They narrow their world. They adopt expectations and values handed to them — often by parents, coaches, or the culture around them — without ever asking, “Do I actually want this?”
Marcia also found that adolescents in the foreclosure status looked confident but had more fragile self-esteem. When they were put under stress, their performance dropped more quickly than that of those who had taken time to explore and choose their identity more freely.
Translate that into a sports environment, and the pattern feels familiar: when we tie a kid’s entire identity to being “the athlete,” pressure doesn’t just challenge their skills — it threatens who they are.
The longer I’ve been around, the more I’m realizing how much pressure a young person must feel when their whole identity has been laid out for them based on what they’re good at, rather than who they are. And when adults keep rewarding that narrow slice of them — the performance, the talent, the achievement — it’s easy for a kid to start believing that’s all they’re allowed to be.
The question we should be asking, as parents, coaches, and club directors, is: How do we help them avoid becoming caught in this cycle?
How do we support their ambition without squeezing their world so tight there's no room left for curiosity, exploration, or growth?
And perhaps more importantly, how do we ensure we’re not the ones unintentionally reinforcing the very pressure they’re struggling under?
1. Normalize Exploration
When we’re raising or coaching driven adolescents, one of the most protective things we can do is normalize exploration. Unfortunately, we tend to do the opposite.
A kid shows a little talent — maybe they start scoring goals early, hit a ball harder than their peers, or dominate the rebounds — and suddenly we’re off to the races.
What started as one practice a week and local weekend play quickly becomes year-round training, private lessons, specialized camps, and travel that resembles a college football itinerary more than a childhood hobby.
And along the way, curiosity starts to shrink. Experimentation fades. What was once a game—an outlet for expression, joy, and discovery—gradually becomes an identity they feel obligated to maintain.
We tell ourselves they “found their thing,” so we double down. But the data tells a very different story. Kids who specialize too early are more likely to burn out, get injured, and quit altogether. And when a child locks into a single identity before they’ve had the chance to explore who they could be, they never get the opportunity to develop their whole self.
So when that “thing” goes away — through injury, burnout, cuts, or simply growing out of it — their identity goes with it.
2. Separate the Person and the Player
I frequently hear parents introduce their kids by the role they play:
“She’s a lacrosse player.” “He’s a drummer.” “She is our diver.”
While it may seem innocuous, it conveys a message: this is who you are—not something you do. And for a developing kid, that’s a pretty tight box to grow inside of.
The reality is, kids don’t need help narrowing their identity. The world will do that for them soon enough. What they need from us is the opposite: space to be inconsistent. Space to be curious. Space to explore and grow.
A better approach? Discuss them first as whole persons. Their sport, talent, or interest becomes part of their story, not the headline.
And coaches have a big responsibility here as well. When we talk about kids in terms of their role — striker, libero, point guard, top scorer — we unintentionally reinforce the idea that their value is tied to their performance. And when the role becomes an identity, every mistake feels like a threat, not a lesson.
Keeping a clear separation between the person and the player tells a kid, “You’re allowed to evolve. You’re allowed to be more than this. Your worth isn’t conditional.”
That’s the foundation on which resilience is built.
3. Shift What We Praise
If we want kids to develop a healthy identity — one that isn’t fragile or tied to a single outcome — we have to consider what we praise and why.
Because praise is not neutral. Praise fuels identity. Praise tells kids what earns belonging.
When we constantly celebrate outcomes — goals scored, saves made, games won — we make performance the gateway to approval. Achievement becomes the currency for acceptance.
And once a child receives that message, everything becomes high-stakes.
A good game means I’m enough.
A bad game means something’s wrong with me.
But when we shift the praise toward the process—effort, curiosity, persistence, problem-solving, and the ability to learn and adapt—we expand, rather than shrink, their world.
We teach them:
“You’re valued for how you show up, not what you produce.”
If we want resilient, adaptable young athletes with a strong sense of self, we must praise the things that build identity—not the things that narrow it.
What’s It All Mean?
Identity foreclosure doesn’t happen because a kid loves a sport. It doesn’t show up because they’re talented, ambitious, or committed.
It happens when the adults around them — often with the best intentions — narrow their world before they’ve had a chance to explore it.
When a young person’s identity is defined by what they do, that identity becomes brittle. Every mistake feels personal. Every setback feels catastrophic. Every dip in performance threatens who they believe themselves to be.
But when we normalize exploration…When we separate the person from the player…When we shift our praise toward effort, curiosity, and growth…We help them broaden their identity rather than shrink it.
We help them develop a self that isn’t built on a single role — a self that can bend without breaking, evolve without fear, and withstand the natural ups and downs of growing up, learning, and evolving.
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And that’s the whole point.
Because the goal isn’t to raise the next phenom.It’s to raise a young person who knows who they are beyond the field, the court, the stage, or the classroom — someone whose confidence comes from the inside, not from maintaining a version of themselves they were labeled with at twelve years old.
If we expand their identity, we expand their future.
That’s how we protect them.
That’s how we help them build confidence that lasts.
And that’s how we break the cycle of identity foreclosure before it even starts.
Brilliant! Thanks for sharing this great insight, Kevin.