This is a strange thought, but stick with me.
A cow is a cow because it believes it’s a cow. It just does cow things—munching grass, staring into space with that profound, empty look, generally being an udder-equipped philosopher. It never wakes up and decides, “You know what? Today, I’m going to be an athlete.” The script is set. The role is accepted.
And for most of us, it’s the same. We are what we believe we are, which is usually a perfect, one-to-one match for what we were told we are.
You are what you believe you are. Not what your 9th-grade teacher said. Not what your nosy uncle decided after watching you spill chai. Not even what your report card screamed in red ink.
But here’s the twist: unless you stop and actually think about who you are and what you believe… you’ll just remain what they told you to be. Like a default wallpaper that never gets changed.
From the moment we’re born, society gives us a rule book. A long, boring, dusty one. Somewhere between “Boys don’t cry” and “Girls shouldn’t speak too loud,” they quietly slipped in your personality type, your career path, your success ceiling, and your role in the drama called life. We didn’t question it. We just copied it.
Why?
Because no one told us we could ask, “Wait, what if I’m not what I’ve been told I am?”
That question—this tiny rebellious thought—is where the magic begins. It’s where self-transformation takes root.
But then there are the others. The weirdos. The outliers. The people who, somewhere between their morning chai and their evening bhindi, hit a mental pause button. They look at the rulebook and a simple, dangerous thought pops into their head:
What if this isn’t me?
I see it in the stories of the greats. The ones who came from nothing. Born into poverty, told they were small, that their fate was sealed. Most people in their place would accept it. It’s the hand they were dealt. The script they were given.
But not them.
They’d be sitting there, maybe on a plastic stool in a tiny room, and they’d see an image of themselves in their mind—an image that didn’t match the one society was showing them. The guy from the slums saw a CEO. The girl with no education saw an artist. And in that tiny, private moment, they decided that the truth wasn’t what they were told. The truth was what they felt inside.
And from that one, tiny, rebellious thought, all the action, all the change, all the success begins.
This is the funny part. We’re all running around, trying to prove some rulebook right. Some dude—thousands of years ago—decided that this is how we should be, based on some script, some ancient thought, some cultural norm. And that guy is probably long gone, hopefully resting in peace, maybe even laughing at us. And here we are, still running on his old software.
How wild is that?
I’m not saying we should all go become monks and live in the Himalayas. I’m just saying, take a moment. Look at the self-image you have in your head. Is it truly yours? Or did someone else paste it there when you weren’t looking?
If it matches, great. Awesome. No problem.
If someone makes you feel small, and you start believing it… you’ll stay small. But the day you say, “This is not my final version,” the game changes. That’s the beginning of growth. Of greatness.
But if it doesn’t? If there’s a gap between who you believe you are and who you’re told you are… don’t just accept it. That gap is the space where all the good stuff happens. It’s where you start chiseling away at the statue others made for you, scrap by scrap.
Me? I’m still scraping and still transforming.
Still a work in progress. And I think that’s the point.
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