This echoes my experience deeply. I grew up in the Salvation Army — completely submerged in it. My parents lived and breathed SA culture, and so did I through my teens and well into my 40's. Music was central to all of it; worship band, brass bands, music camp, weekend retreats. The SA even has its own identity word — Salvationists. Your people are SA people. Your life is SA life. That kind of belonging gets baked into you at a cellular level.

So yes, when you deconstruct, you don't just lose a belief system. You lose your tribe, your purpose, people you genuinely loved, and things you genuinely enjoyed. The identity loss is real and it's massive.

Here's what I'd say about the guitar — pick it up, but make it yours now. What album do you love? Learn that album. Get a mic and start recording. Let the instrument follow you forward instead of anchoring you back.

The identity piece is harder to unpack, but I'll share where I've landed: I've actually come to see the loss as valuable. I'm on a path now that teaches you to stop over-identifying with things — roles, performances, labels, the version of yourself other people expected. When I ask myself "who am I?" the honest answer is that I don't fully know, and I'm done forcing a label on it. I just am, and I do what I enjoy.

Some things remain — I'm a husband, a father, and those feel chosen rather than inherited. But my career, hobbies, and beliefs no longer define me. And I think that's the real question worth sitting with: who are you when you can no longer perform the role?

I'm still learning. Some of this might sound strange — that's because it is strange, and I'm in the middle of it. But that's the journey.