Identity
I’ve come to realize that not everything we “feel” belongs to the same category. Some emotions are momentary, they rise, peak, and then fade. Others are more persistent. They linger beneath the surface and shape our experience over time. The difference between an emotion and a state has become very clear to me.
Take emptiness, for example. Emptiness is often described as a feeling, but it behaves more like a state. When you feel hollow inside, it isn’t just a passing wave like anger or excitement. It’s a sense that something is missing. You can distract yourself from it, you can silence it temporarily, but it doesn’t fully disappear. It waits. If you’ve ever truly felt emptiness, you know it has continuity. look and investigate inside every time and you will feel it. It’s not a spark, it does not vanish easily.
People have a habit of reading me as someone who is chasing something I’m not. they see the startups I’ve been part of, the teams I’ve found myself inside, the communities I’ve helped shape, and they conclude: entrepreneur. business minded. someone with their eye on the market.
That reading has always been a little off. I was never the one who applied. I was nominated, referenced, recommended. I got pulled in. and the reason that distinction matters is because it points to the actual motive, which was never money, and never the feeling of being supreme over others. I don’t love controlling people. I genuinely don’t. not out of shyness, not out of some performed humility, but because responsibility is something I fear, and because I have always preferred being a contributor over being a manager. a contributor does the work. a manager mostly speaks about how the work is progressing. I despised that image of leadership since I was young.
The image I held about myself was always vague. if I am being honest, I never truly liked myself. I never paused long enough to build a clear internal picture of who I was beyond performance and ambition. this whole psychology conversation about self image and inner narratives felt unnecessary to me. I did not have a defined understanding of self worth. when someone asked me if I believed I was worthy of love, I genuinely did not know how to answer. I did not spend time thinking about those questions. they did not feel practical. they would not buy me the Lamborghini I wanted, so why should they occupy space in my mind. for the longest time, introspection felt like a luxury I don’t want to invest in.
There has been a contradiction in my life for years, and I have only recently started articulating it clearly. I have led communities before . I have been part of founding teams. I have worked inside startups. I repeatedly find myself in environments where leadership, impact are either finds me or is quietly handed to me. yet despite this pattern, I do not think of myself as someone who loves leadership. In fact, if I am honest, I have often avoided it.
There is something interesting about a certain kind of people. they are flexible in a way that makes them difficult to categorize. as if they were not built to fit into a single rule, a single system, or a single identity. I still cannot give them a perfect name, because they blend too many traits at once. they are curious, exploratory, internally alive, purposeful, often generalists, and deeply adaptive. they are not built for a narrow lane. they are built for terrain.
It started with a friend (North) asking me a simple question about how I form relationships. something I had never stopped and wondered about. that led to me doing some introspection, and I wrote this at the time: Adding New Friends Systems .