"They Told You You Couldn’t Fly... Then Quietly Clipped Your Wings and Called It 'Reality'."
I’ve known for most of my life that something wasn’t adding up.
The rules.
The limits.
The way people contorted themselves to fit molds that didn't quite fit.
Don't get me wrong..
I played along. Smiled. Nodded. And learned the script.
But deep down?
I always felt the jar.
👉The squeeze when I tried to think bigger.
👉The ache when I shrunk myself to stay acceptable.
👉The quiet knowing that this container, the one handed to me, shaped by fear, tradition, and "the way things are"...
WASN'T REAL
This post is for anyone who's felt that too.
Who’s ready to stretch out, shake loose, and stop apologizing for the shape they were meant to take.
"You Were Built to Soar—But They Wrapped Your Wings in Fear and Called It Wisdom."
There’s this old story Ayn Rand used to tell, about a culture that placed their babies in jars.
Literal jars.
They’d fit the newborn inside, soft and malleable, and let them grow into the shape of the glass. Arms twisted. Legs folded. Spines curled into strange, unnatural angles. The jar dictated the form.
Sounds barbaric, right?
But here’s the part that’ll punch you in the gut...
That’s exactly what happens to most of our minds.
Not with jars of glass, but with jars of assumptions, labels, and stories.
Invisible containers passed down from parents, teachers, preachers, and bosses.
Shiny, airtight jars like...
👉“Be realistic.
👉“Don’t aim too high.”
👉“That’s not how the real world works.”
👉“Success looks like X, and you’re definitely not it.”
And over time, your mind...
...once wild, curious, full of fire, starts to mold itself to fit.
At first, it’s subtle. A tightness in your tummy when you speak up.
A voice in your head that says “who the fk do you think you are?”
Then it becomes structural. Built into your decisions.
Time ticks by...
You don’t reach. You don’t risk.
You edit yourself before the world even gets the chance.
Because you’ve confused the shape of the jar with the shape of your worth.
But let’s get one thing clear:
Your mind ain't broken,
& You're NOT flawed.
You’ve just been compressed.
And tell me this...
What happens when you spend your life contorting to fit someone else’s container?
This...
You forget what freedom even feels like.
Forget that you were once expansive.
Had edges and dreams that couldn’t be charted.
Original thoughts...
Wild ideas...
Gut instincts that didn’t require permission.
And then?
The jar got tight.
The walls invisible, but very, very real.
And here’s the twist...
After a while, you start defending the jar.
You’ll call it “common sense,” or “being practical.”
You’ll say things like “this is just who I am” or “I’m not that kind of person.”
But that’s not truth talking.
That’s the jar talking.
Thing is... glass is brittle
Glass can break.
It can shatter in an instant.
All it takes is a crack, a moment of clarity, a question asked, a refusal to keep bendin' over.
Sometimes it’s something someone says.
A gut punch from life.
A quiet afternoon when you finally realize:
“Wait… none of this was mine.”
The values you inherited.
Metrics you measure yourself against.
Fears you carry like old family heirlooms.
What if they were never yours to begin with?
Hmmm.
What if you’re not too much, or not enough, but just shaped to fit someone else’s expectations?
That ain't your failure.
That’s your origin story.
And guess what?
You can write a new one.
You can smash the jar.
Stretch your limbs.
And reclaim your original shape.
The one that was yours before the world started editing you.
And no, it won’t be neat or tidy (ask me how I know)
It might feel like chaos at first... messy, raw, a little dizzying.
But you know what else it feels like?
FREEDOM
The kind of freedom that lets you build a business around your brilliance.
Say no without guilt.
Say yes without permission.
Serve your people without shapeshifting to earn your worth.
Because real impact—the kind that ripples, that matters, DON'T come from staying in the jar.
It comes from stepping out.
From finally trusting your own shape, even if it scares the B'Jesus out of everyone still sealed up in theirs.
So here’s a quiet reminder...
You were never broken.
Just beautifully misfit for the container you were handed.
And now?
Well...
It’s time to SMASH that jar.
And build something only you can.
So...
With shards at your feet.
Air in your lungs.
No jar in sight.
The question is...
This hit like a freight train, in the best way.
That metaphor of the jar?
Devastating and deeply true. So many of us grew up folding ourselves to fit expectations that were never meant for us, calling it “maturity” or “responsibility” when really it was fear in disguise.
Your words cracked something open… reminded me the discomfort I’ve always felt wasn’t failure, but resistance to a mold that couldn’t hold who I REALLY am.
Thank you for this raw, powerful reminder that we were built to soar, and it’s not too late to remember how.
Are you planning to write more pieces like this?
I’d love to read whatever comes next.
– Scott
Scott, your words hit me with the same force!
That line…
“resistance to a mold that couldn’t hold who I REALLY am”
WOW…
That’s it.
The quiet fight so many of us have been in for years, without even realizing it.
What we mistook for failure was our spirit refusing to be boxed in.
Yeah, I get it—even this could sound like just another belief we tell ourselves.
But I’d point to a repeating pattern across history, culture, and personal awakening to say otherwise:
People always break before they expand.
The discomfort isn’t dysfunction—it’s the tension before alignment.
It’s ancient, not accidental.
And yes, Scottt.
I’ll be writing more like this.
Not as some content calendar checkbox, but because once you crack the glass, you can’t unsee it.
There’s so much more to say.
So many of us remembering we were never meant to be shrink wrapped.
Grateful you’re in this with me.
In your corner
Dedo (Chief MEME Officer)
There’s something deeply familiar in the way you describe learning to shrink for the sake of approval — not dramatic, just subtle enough to become a habit. What was different in your article is how the language didn’t shout, but instead carried that quiet weight.
It made me reflect on how often we internalize limits that were never ours to begin with.
Wow… thank you for this.
You put it beautifully: “not dramatic, just subtle enough to become a habit.”
That’s exactly the flavor of it, isn’t it?
The way we slowly edit ourselves, bit by bit, until we’re living inside someone else’s idea of “enough.”
I’m glad the language landed quietly.
That was intentional.
Some truths don’t need to shout… they need to be recognized.
And you’re right…
…so many of the limits we carry were never actually ours.
Just hand-me-downs, we didn’t realize we had the right to return.
Appreciate you taking the time to reflect and share this.
That’s the kind of resonance I write for.
In your corner
Dedo (Chief MEME Officer)
Wow, Dedo, this piece stirred something deep within me. The jar metaphor is hauntingly accurate. As a mom and a Christian, I’ve often found myself trying to fit into molds that don’t align with who I truly am. Your words reminded me that the discomfort I feel isn’t failure—it’s my soul resisting confinement.
Thank you for this powerful reminder that we were made to soar, not to be contained. I’m inspired to start breaking my jars and embrace the freedom God intended for me.
Alice… thank you for sharing this so openly.
What you said gave me goosebumps.
That discomfort you’ve felt?
It’s not weakness, it’s wisdom.
It’s the soul’s quiet refusal to shrink just to make others comfortable.
And I believe that resistance… that stirring… is sacred.
You’re right… we weren’t made for jars.
We were made for the sky.
For spirit.
For movement.
And hearing that this message gave you permission to break the mold and return to who you already are… as a mother, a believer, a free soul – means more than I can say.
Keep breaking, keep rising.
You’re not alone, Alice
In your corner
Dedo (Chief MEME Officer)
Loved this poem like article, but it is also very close to home for most of us. We all live our lives with clipped wings, too scared to try new things that are beyond our comfort zone. We like to live safely and not venture out into the unknown, but if we never push ourselves, this will be our downfall in the end.
Thank you Michel!
You’re right, it is close to home.
The cage isn’t locked for most of us… It’s just familiar.
And comfort can feel like safety… until you realise it’s been quietly clipping your wings.
That fear of the unknown?
You know it…
It’s real.
But so is the cost of never taking flight.
Pushing beyond the edge of what’s known isn’t about reckless risk… it’s about remembering you were built to move, stretch, and explore.
‘Cause every time you do, you reclaim just a little more sky.
Appreciate you being here, Michel, and naming what so many feel but can’t quite say.
Here’s to the brave few who stretch anyway.
In your corner
Dedo (Chief MEME Officer)