Ctrl+C, Ctrl+Me
Who taught you to be you?
Who taught you to be you?
I was on a walk the other day and not a fitness walk, not a “clear your mind” kind of walk. Just one of those “if I stay in this house any longer, I might explode” types of walks. Somewhere between dodging potholes and trying not to make awkward eye contact with bikers on the sidewalk, this weird thought hit me:
Almost everything about me, the way I walk, the way I talk, the slang I use, my mannerisms, none of it started with me. I picked it up somewhere. From people I grew up around. From shows I watched. From music, movies, podcasts, the internet. I absorbed it all without even realizing it… and now I call it me.
We all do it.
We copy what we see, we remix it, we repeat it enough times that it feels natural. But most of what we call a “personality” is just a collage of other people’s influences stitched together by our subconscious. We’re not as original as we think we’re, just well-trained imitators with good memory and decent WiFi.
We’re being programmed all the time.
And most of us don’t even notice.
Screens raise us now more than people do. You scroll long enough and the algorithm will hand you a personality: here’s how to dress, how to speak, how to flirt, how to heal, how to “boss up,” how to eat if you want your chakras to sparkle. And we eat it up because deep down, we’re trying to belong. We want to matter. And in a world that runs on performance? The script is safety.
But the more we imitate, the less we investigate.
We copy what works for others and call it confidence. We conform to what gets clapped and call it truth. But if you stripped it all away, the filters, the followers, the trends, the performance, would you even recognise yourself? Or would there be a blank space where your real self was supposed to be?
I’ve played all the roles.
The quiet one. The ambitious one. The “I’m too chill to care” one. I once went through a phase where I dressed like I had a 7-figure business, but I was broke, exhausted, and running on caffeine and denial. Still, I looked like I had it together, and sometimes that’s all people need to see.
That’s the wild thing no one tells you:
You can play your part perfectly… and still feel completely empty.
Because it’s not really you it’s just the character that got the most praise. And once you get used to applause, it’s hard to go back to silence. Even if the silence is where the truth lives.
But here’s where it gets deeper it’s not just that we imitate each other. It’s that the world depends on it.
There’s this quote I came across that hit me like a punch in the chest:
“Habit is the enormous flywheel of society, its most precious conservative agent. It alone is what keeps us all within the bounds of ordinance, and saves the children of fortune from the envious uprisings of the poor.”
— William James
Read that again. Slowly.
Basically, habit, not passion, not purpose, is what keeps the machine running. It’s what keeps society predictable. What keeps the rich safe? What keeps the poor busy? What keeps you distracted enough not to ask dangerous questions like:
Why do I live this way?
Who taught me this was normal?
Who benefits from me staying the same?
Maybe this isn’t just about “finding yourself.” Maybe it’s about realising that your current self might be a well-behaved, well-dressed version of what the system needs you to be.
Safe. Consistent. Unquestioning.
And maybe real freedom isn’t about becoming something new , but unlearning everything you were told you had to be.
So yeah… reinventing yourself is scary. There’s no GPS for authenticity. But maybe it starts here — getting curious. Pausing the performance. Letting yourself be awkward, quiet, unsure. Human.
Maybe the most radical thing you can do right now is be real. Even if it’s messy. Even if no one claps. Even if you’re still figuring it out.
Because the second you stop being a copy…
you give everyone else permission to do the same.
