Identity
This is a piece I have always wanted to write. not when I was inside it, not when the feeling was too loud and too close, when emotions clouded reasoning, but now, when enough distance has settled that I can finally lay it down without it burning my hands.
Looking back at my experiences, I can now see that my pattern was never about avoiding responsibility itself. That was the story I told myself for years. The deeper concern was something else entirely. It was about avoiding the spotlight.
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.