The Portfolio of YOU

On rebalancing and diversifying the portfolio of your life.

Almost a decade ago, I went through this program that was meant to be a big reset - a way to help me be the “best version of myself”. For about 10 weeks, I worked out with a trainer and a nutritionist, interspersed with a series of skincare appointments. For most of this time, my day was spent exercising, measuring and cooking my food and then eating carefully, mindfully. It felt really luxurious to focus all this time and energy on myself, and watching myself get slimmer, smaller, more radiant.

At the end of this period, the program did a full makeup and haircare session and they did a professional photoshoot with me. I looked so good that the program chose to feature me as their model in the Alaska Airlines in-flight magazine. It was fun when friends would browse that magazine and call me when they landed - “Are you in the magazine?” It was a good laugh and a great ego boost for me. A few weeks later, I posted a few of these pictures to Facebook ( Yes, I used to do that back then).

I got a lot of reactions and compliments on the pictures - and I enjoyed reading the very nice comments. Except ONE person - who was clearly not pleased. I happened to see this person the same evening that I had posted the picture. She clearly couldn’t hold herself back and told me - “ Nice picture, Nikki. But I really don’t think it looks like you.”

“It doesn’t ?” I was mildly amused and surprised.

“No - that’s not you.”

“It isn’t?”

She brought up another picture of me on her phone. Perhaps a year ago, I had chaperoned my son’s 5th grade class to a 3 day hiking trip. In the middle of one of those hikes, tired from shepherding a bunch of curious and energetic 5th graders through a nature walk, probably on a few hours of sleep and probably un-showered, I had sat down on a wooden bridge and someone took a picture.

“THIS is you,” she said, “This is who you are.”

I remember thinking back then, “Really? This is the only me I’m allowed to be? Why can’t I be both?”

Recently, I had another exchange about pictures - this time with my daughter. She sent me a very flattering picture of herself and said that in one picture, she looked just like me. I laughed and said to her, “I’m glad you think I look like that.”

Suddenly, after all these years, this exchange with my daughter brought back memories of this random conversation from years ago and it made me think that so much of what we start believing as truths about ourselves is actually just people telling us who they think we are, who they think we should be, even when they are not doing so directly. Over time, I believe, we start creating this collection of YOUs - defined by others around us. People we think we should be, people we’re supposed to be, people we start being around some people, people we wish we were.

This collection of selves, accumulated over a lifetime, is much like an investment portfolio. In our early years, we gather these assets somewhat haphazardly. Perhaps the approach is more naive and simplistic - relying on the advice of those who have done this before, following trends and focusing on a path to growth. This is likely how we get some “blue-chip stocks”, the reliable, socially-approved labels: the good daughter, the dedicated employee, the loyal wife. We invest heavily in these because the expected returns—approval, stability, a clear path to “success”—are high.

My childhood provides a perfect example of how these initial 'blue-chip' deposits are made... While these traits might seem like 'blue-chip' assets, some can turn out to be 'junk bonds' in disguise. For example, in the anecdote I described, what this person had observed about me was likely shaped by my childhood absorbing some other norms and expectations. Growing up, for instance, appearance was never a focus. In fact, in my family, the emphasis was very much on modesty, not being visible, and not attracting attention, especially not based on your looks. This was likely an effect of my family's values, but also a reflection of growing up as a girl in India.

I grew up in an Army household, and Army cantonments in India were a study in uniformity. We lived in the same houses, everyone had the same basic furniture, everyone rode around in Army vehicles, and we all wore uniforms to school. I grew up blissfully unaware of the power of brands or what they were supposed to convey. This environment, where individual expression was minimized and conformity was valued, planted a deep-seated identity of discretion in my portfolio. So perhaps I added some “blue chip” traits like always being a hard worker, being responsible, being attentive to others. However, one could argue that some of these seemingly safe assets are in fact "junk bonds" in disguise. They're attractive for their potential high returns, but they come with significant downsides if the issuer fails.

Take the identity of a people-pleaser, for example. The perceived short-term gain is immense: widespread acceptance, avoiding conflict, and being liked by everyone. But these "high returns" come with significant, insidious risks to your overall identity portfolio. The long-term downsides include a loss of an authentic sense of self, simmering resentment, emotional exhaustion, and a chronic lack of clear self-identity. You might be "liked" by many, but you're not truly known or respected, as your own needs and desires are either not known or always subordinate to others.

And then there are the speculative assets – the passion projects and whispered dreams we often invest in only on the side: the artist, the writer, the traveler. Despite all the norms of my family, I always held a quiet admiration for girls who seemed to possess a "secret sauce" for putting themselves together so effortlessly. It felt like an alternate world, locked away from my experience. I’ve felt the same way about all kinds of creatives – how do they know and hone their craft? These are the areas that feel inherently risky, so we often allocate only a small percentage of our identity portfolio to these ventures, resisting the urge to go all in. What seems risky or safe, of course, varies greatly depending on the environment and conditions you grow up in.

Photo by Hakan Nural on Unsplash

As investors grow and mature, they develop a finer intuition honed by years of experience. Just as seasoned investors are constantly balancing their portfolios, so must we in midlife, become more active managers of our own identity portfolio. What worked for us in our 20s and 30s may no longer be yielding returns. In fact, some of those once-reliable assets may now be toxic.

This is the time for a full portfolio review. It’s time to ask ourselves some tough questions, not unlike a financial advisor would:

• What’s my asset allocation? Where have I invested the majority of my identity? Have I over-invested in the "mom" stock to the point where the "me" stock is almost nonexistent? Is the "dutiful wife" asset now bankrupt after a divorce, leaving a massive hole in my portfolio?

• What needs rebalancing? As our life circumstances change, our portfolio needs to be adjusted. This is our chance to divest from the identities that are draining our energy and reinvest in the parts of ourselves we’ve neglected. It’s about consciously shifting capital from the roles that no longer fit to the interests that now spark joy and curiosity. Those speculative assets - perhaps they need some more TLC and investment.

• How do I diversify? A well-managed portfolio is a diversified one. Midlife is the perfect opportunity to invest in new ventures. Maybe you dust off that old dream of being a stylist, or you finally take the time to take an art history class. These aren't just hobbies; they are new asset classes that can provide unexpected returns in happiness and fulfillment. This is the "Experiment" phase of growth—trying new things without the pressure of long-term commitment.

• Am I focused on long-term growth? The goal isn't a quick rebrand or a flashy new label for short-term validation. It’s about sustainable, long-term growth. It’s the messy, internal work of understanding who we are now and who we want to become. It’s about cultivating a portfolio that is resilient, authentic, and aligned with the future we want to design for ourselves, not the one that was prescribed to us.

Managing this portfolio is the unseen labor of midlife. It requires us to be brave enough to examine our holdings, bold enough to divest from what’s no longer serving us, and curious enough to invest in new, undiscovered parts of ourselves.

So I ask you, what’s in your portfolio today? What assets are you ready to let go of, and where are you excited to invest next?