At some point in life, we all realize something uncomfortable and strangely freeing at the same time: people are going to have opinions about us no matter what we do. Loud ones. Quiet ones. Half-formed ones based on a single moment, a single sentence, or a version of us that no longer exists. And if we’re not careful, those opinions start to feel heavier than they deserve to be.
The real danger isn’t that people think things about you. The danger is when what they think starts to outweigh what you know.
You know your intentions. You know the nights you stayed up worrying, the mornings you showed up anyway, the choices you made when no one was watching. You know the reasons behind your silences, your pauses, your boundaries. Other people don’t. They see fragments. Highlights. Sometimes shadows. And then they fill in the gaps with their own experiences, insecurities, and assumptions.
That’s not cruelty most of the time. It’s just human nature.
The problem begins when you start outsourcing your self-worth to those incomplete narratives. When a raised eyebrow makes you question your values. When a careless comment makes you rewrite your story. When praise becomes oxygen and criticism becomes gravity.
It’s subtle. It creeps in disguised as self-awareness or humility. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I should tone this down. Maybe I’m too much… or not enough. And slowly, you begin negotiating with yourself. Trimming parts. Softening edges. Explaining things that don’t need explaining.
But here’s the quiet truth: the people who misunderstand you the most are often the ones who haven’t taken the time to really see you. And the people who truly see you rarely feel the need to label you at all.
You don’t owe everyone clarity. You don’t owe everyone access. And you certainly don’t owe everyone the power to define you.
There’s a difference between listening and absorbing. Listening can help you grow. Absorbing everything will only dilute you. Wisdom lies in knowing which voices are mirrors and which are just noise. Mirrors reflect who you are. Noise just echoes what others carry.
Confidence isn’t loud. It doesn’t announce itself or win every argument. Real confidence is quiet and steady. It’s the ability to stand still inside yourself even when the room is restless. It’s knowing that being misunderstood doesn’t make you wrong. It just means you’re not living for applause.
Some seasons will teach you this lesson the hard way. You’ll do your best and still be judged. You’ll act with integrity and still be doubted. You’ll stay true and still be talked about. And that’s when the line becomes clear: you can either defend yourself endlessly, or you can anchor yourself deeply.
Anchors don’t chase waves. They hold.
Let people think what they want. Let them project, assume, speculate. Their thoughts are shaped by their journeys, not yours. What matters is that when everything goes quiet—when it’s just you and your own reflection—you recognize yourself. You trust yourself. You respect yourself.
Because at the end of the day, the voice you live with is your own.
Never let what someone else thinks about you detract from what you know about yourself. That knowing wasn’t given to you lightly. It was earned. Through growth. Through mistakes. Through resilience. Protect it. Stay rooted in it. And keep walking forward—unapologetically, calmly, and in your own truth.
Kenrick Vaz 