Label Me Not
Did Princess Leia need to define her purpose, or did she just inhabit the force as a birthright—and use it instinctively to help others?
Was Indiana Jones a “confident” person? Or was he simply passionate about archaeology and committed to the pursuit of knowledge and truth?
In My Cousin Vinny, Mona Lisa Vito spent most of the film trying to prove her value. But it wasn’t until the end—when she saved the damn day—that she realized she was already valuable, just by virtue of being herself and knowing her shit.
And in Legally Blonde, did Elle Woods ultimately need to become the top student at Harvard Law to feel smart? Or was it really about proving to herself that she always had the goods, even when everyone else underestimated her?
We love to talk about purpose. Confidence. Happiness. Success. But here’s the thing...
This post is about deconstructing the pressure to live up to labels and word definitions—and choosing to feel our way forward instead of forcing ourselves to perform a title, an identity, or a role we may not even want.
👉 And let’s not ignore the gender layer here.
Women are handed labels like “good girl,” “bossy,” “too much,” “not enough,” and “emotional” from the time we’re barely out of diapers. We're expected to embody confidence but not arrogance, purpose but not selfishness, happiness but not too much ambition. No wonder we feel like we’re failing—it’s a rigged game. Questioning labels isn’t just personal. It’s an act of rebellion.
🔖 The Good/Bad of Labels
Let’s give labels their due:
✅ They can offer a sense of belonging, direction, and identity.
✅ They can help us find our people or feel grounded in how we relate to the world.
But they can also become prisons.
❌ Labels can box us in.
❌ They turn into “shoulds”—and when we inevitably fail to live up to them, we feel like we’re the failure.
❌ They can be externally imposed and internally internalized—and that’s where the pressure piles on.
We end up defining ourselves by whether or not we’re "confident" or "successful" or “purpose-driven,” instead of asking: What does that actually feel like? And do I even want it?
We tend to wear labels like underwear: supportive, maybe—but usually too tight, not visible to the world, and definitely not meant for everyone’s input. 😆
🧠 Word Definitions vs. Emotional Reality
For years, I relied on labels and rigid definitions to help me feel in control. “Confidence” was my marquee label—I thought if I could just become confident, everything else would fall into place. So I kept chasing: more knowledge, more certifications, more personal growth. And yet… confidence remained elusive.
Eventually I realized: I don’t have to be confident.
I can just be someone who pursues knowledge, tries new things, and shows up—scared, shaky, curious. That’s courage. And sometimes, that leads to confidence… but honestly, that part’s irrelevant.
Let’s flip the script.
Maybe we don’t need to chase confidence—we need to practice courage until confidence shows up.
Maybe we don’t need to define purpose—we just need to follow what feels meaningful or joyful.
Maybe we don’t need to be happy—we can feel awe, contentment, or just not anxious for a moment and call it a win.
🌀 A New Approach
What if you let go of the label and chased the feeling instead?
Instead of saying, “I want to be confident,” try:
💬 I want to feel more grounded when I speak up.
Instead of “I want to be successful,” maybe it’s:
💬 I want to feel proud of the way I show up every day.
Instead of “I want to find my purpose,” try:
💬 I want to do more things that light me up and serve others in a way that feels good to me.
✨ Your Turn
I invite you to take a breath and reflect:
What’s a label you’ve been trying to live up to?
What’s the feeling underneath it that you’re really craving?
What small action could you take to connect to that feeling—without needing to fully claim the label?
Because maybe you don’t need a new label.
Maybe you just need a little courage, a little curiosity…
…and the freedom to let yourself feel your way forward.



Love this … We tend to wear labels like underwear: supportive, maybe—but usually too tight, not visible to the world, and definitely not meant for everyone’s input.
A lot of food for thought here, Lisa. I’ve been a journalist/writer for most of my adult life, and that’s how people introduce me. It bothers me sometimes when the first thing people ask is, “What are you writing/publishing now?” or some such. Makes me feel guilty if I take time off from writing, or if I’m not on a professional deadline.