Published via Ecency

Something I never really thought about deeply while growing up is the fact that the world practically lives on assumptions when it comes to drawing conclusions about people and how they live their lives. You meet someone today, and within an hour, they've written a complete story about who you are, and sometimes it does not stop there. They pass that story to the next person who cares to listen, and if you don't try to correct the ones within your power, that version sticks with everyone for a long time.

I, too, have had my fair share of assumptions from people. Growing up, I was always seen as the timid, introverted, brilliant child. My parents and everyone around me loved that combination. They assumed it meant I was well put together. To them, I was someone who could never have a PUBLIC outburst or struggle academically. But life has a way of testing expectations, and the events that followed proved them all wrong.

The first instance that challenged the image they all had of me happened when I was 16. I had failed one of my qualifying exams into the university, and it was painful because I was so close to meeting the required grade. But almost, they say, does not kill a bird. Nobody thought I could fail at that point. It felt like they had built a version of me in their minds where failure just wasn't part of my story. But I am human, and humans fail. That experience taught my family, especially my dad, that even the most brilliant people fail sometimes. And while they were free to have expectations of me, they must not make a god out of my brilliance. It was a humbling but necessary experience, and I am glad that single moment cleared the illusion that I was somehow above failure.

Another defining moment came exactly a year later, when I stood up to my dad for the first time in my life. Back then, in my country, parents usually had the final say on which university their children attended. Most of my siblings let my parents choose, while the rest chose to study within our state to avoid any form of conflict with them. But it was not the same for me. When it was my turn, I deliberately chose a university far from home, and I had valid reasons for doing so. My dad did not like my decision, and the tension began the moment he realized I had already bought and filled the forms for the university.

One morning, he asked me to get dressed so we could go and correct the details I had previously provided in the form. This meant that we were going to change my choice of school to the one in our state. When I figured this out, I explained why I couldn't go with him. But he kept insisting and placing his wishes above mine until something snapped. I confidently refused his words, walked out of his room, and banged the door behind me. That was the first time he ever saw me angry. Later that evening, I overheard him telling my mom that he did not think I could stand up to him in that manner. I remember he kept emphasizing the fact that I banged his door, and honestly, that was the funniest part of it all.

From that day on, I was no longer seen as the timid, introverted child who would choose peace over her own valid choices. That image was gone, and I'm glad I was responsible for making it vanish both with my words and actions. Interestingly, even in adulthood, I've had a few encounters with people who eventually changed their assumptions about my introvertedness. Before now, they would always assume that being introverted meant that I was quiet, sometimes docile, and other times, quick to forgive. The way they engaged and treated me was based off these assumptions until I proved them wrong. And I always do. Now, a lot of them no longer view me with the lens of their assumptions. They currently see me as one who's capable of speaking up for herself, voicing her thoughts, being less forgiving, and following through any decision she makes, without worrying about public perception or judgement.

So, if you ask me, I'll say that these past events have made me realize that assumptions truly shape how we see people. And while it's easy to assume various things, especially when someone’s behaviour tracks most of the time, we should not repeat those assumptions as facts. Instead, they should be our invitation to ask questions and learn who people truly are. I have made wrong assumptions, too, but in those moments, I have learned to show up better in the world and not fill my head with the wrong idea of people I created on my own.

This also brings me back to where I started: the world may draw quick conclusions, but sometimes, only we can decide the story that gets to be true about us. And how do we do that? By constantly challenging the norm and acting in opposition to the narratives following us. Personally, most of these wrong assumptions people previously placed on me have already been corrected, and I'm always happy to correct any new ones that are within my control.