What Story Do You Tell Yourself?

Sometimes, I look at my life with grace and profound gratitude. I understand how much of a privilege it is to be able to plot your path and shape your destiny, to choose what you eat, where you live, where you work, and who you spend time with. Even though I don’t have everything figured out, I am grateful for the little things that define my essence.

It hasn’t always been this way. I come from a generation of Zimbabweans who had no option to choose, thanks to our beloved government. We ate what USAID donated to us, we attended schools our parents could afford – often government schools without teachers – and we lived in townships with zero access to any kind of amenities. On top of that, we had no say in who led us.

It pains me to see how many of my peers are still trapped in this cycle of never-ending lack of choice. That’s why, when I look back, I am in awe of the privilege I now have, the ability to make choices.

Even though I previously mentioned that my choices were limited back then, I believe I still had some. I had the choice to be content with what I had and to believe that it could have been worse.

It might surprise many, but I am not special in any way. I look at every event in my life as a step toward who I am today. That heartbreak, that sad moment when I lost my uncle – the one person who gave me a reason to believe in myself and go against the current – shaped me.

Through it all, I am reminded of how important it is to be mindful of the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves. Do we replay the tape of our successes or our failures? Regardless of where you are in life, always know that even though things could be better, they are better now.