Growth Is Not Becoming Someone Else, It's About Becoming More Fully Who You Actually Are

Growth Is Not Becoming Someone Else, It's About Becoming More Fully Who You Actually Are

Lena was the kind of person who could organize a project, a pantry, or a party with military precision—but she could not organize her courage.

At work, she was reliable, steady, always the one staying late to fix last‑minute mistakes. Her boss trusted her, her teammates liked her, and her performance reviews were consistently stamped with the same phrase: “Solid team player.” It was meant as a compliment, but every time she saw it, a small, restless ache formed behind her ribs.

Because tucked between her color‑coded spreadsheets and carefully labeled folders was a sketchbook she never showed anyone.

Lena drew in the margins of meeting notes. She sketched on napkins at lunch. She had ideas for children’s books, a mental library of characters and worlds that lived only in her head and in the worn pages of that sketchbook. For years, she told herself a quiet story: One day, when things calm down, I’ll really give this a try.

Things never calmed down.

One Thursday, after a long meeting, she dropped her notebook on her desk and it fell open, pages spilling out. A coworker walking by noticed a drawing of a small, determined fox wearing a too‑big backpack.

“Whoa,” he said, picking up the notebook. “You drew this?”

Lena’s first instinct was to grab it back and laugh it off. “Oh, that? It’s nothing. Just doodles.”

But he lingered on the drawing. “This is… actually really good. Have you ever thought about doing something with them?”

The question made her heart race and her stomach sink at the same time. She had thought about it—a lot. She just hadn’t done anything. She shrugged, offered a vague “Maybe someday,” and changed the subject.

That night, sitting on the edge of her bed, Lena heard a sentence in her mind that she couldn’t shake: How much longer are you going to call the things that matter to you ‘nothing’?

It wasn’t a dramatic movie moment. There was no soundtrack, no lightning bolt of clarity. Just a quiet discomfort that felt different this time—not like shame, but like an invitation.

She opened her sketchbook and flipped through the pages. There were dozens of characters: brave foxes, shy turtles, anxious owls, adventurous kids. She noticed something she’d never put into words before—almost every drawing was about someone who underestimated themselves and discovered they were capable of more.

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