All Models Are Wrong (Part 3 of 4)

So far we’ve just talked about theory, which is cute. But, until the rubber meets the road and this gets personal, it’s just words. 

Don’t worry. I’m going to spare you having to challenge your own models until the final blog in the series. In this one, I’m going to tell you about something I had to admit wasn’t working for me and left behind. 

The hard part about models being imperfect is not their fallibility, it’s the fact that they are useful. Every belief or thing we’ve ever held has served us in some way. That’s why they can be dangerous and hard to let go of. Admitting to their imperfection is the hard part. 

I grew up feeling not very close to my family.

I felt like an outsider like I didn’t belong. And I never really felt like I had a place… until I started running the streets. There I belonged. I had a name and a reputation that I earned. I could receive love for action. I could raise my hand for a task and distinguish myself. I was provided for and protected. I was valued. It became my whole life and personality. To a scared little boy who felt lost and alone in the world, this was family. 

This continued and intensified when I earned myself a decade in prison. I began calling my gang ‘The Family’. It was all that mattered and for a very long time I lost any individuality and sense of self I had. I traded it for the need to belong. I almost lost myself. On several occasions, because of ‘the family’, I almost lost any chance of getting out of prison and my life. 

When I was released, I wish I could tell you that it was over. It wasn’t. ‘The family’ continued to be important to me. Even though I knew that my association was the biggest roadblock to my growth, they were the only group of people I felt comfortable around. They understood me. Most of them were just like me in that we felt we were the only real support we had in the world was our brothers. 

I don’t think I could have left if this was 100 percent true for me. I was very fortunate to have people who believed in and supported me outside of the gang. For many, this is not the reality. 

Ultimately, I left because who I was as a person had become painfully unaligned with the group. I wish I could say that I was the one who had the courage to force the issue, I wasn’t. 

But, I did have the courage to leave and shed an old version of myself. It was long overdue, but by letting go of a lifestyle and people that no longer served me I was able to become a version of myself that is more true to who I really am. 

In a lot of ways, this is what personal development is about, becoming more ourselves.