I am good because…

I am good because…

Finding the end of this sentence is a constant pursuit. It drives us to conquer, to go above and beyond, to try to please every person we encounter, and to attempt the impossible essentially to do what cannot be done. The process of answering can come from within or from outside ourselves. The former is more difficult than the latter. This is due to the many factors we encounter in the development of self. It is this view of self that matters most in development and in recognizing the true story of who we are at our core. The journey of becoming who we are not who we believe we are expected or supposed to be is a personal one. It often begins externally, yet ultimately the only person who can answer that question for us is ourselves.

The first place we look in the process of developing a sense of self is toward our parents. When we do something well, we hear “good boy” or “there’s my good girl.” When they leave us with someone else, they tell us to “be good” or “make good choices.” When we fail, we are told to “do better.” In this way, being good often comes to mean fulfilling our role as their son or daughter, complying with their expectations. When their words or actions fall short and fail to communicate “you are good,” a split can form.

A split is a mental or emotional division in how we experience ourselves. Imagine a child who politely asks, “May I please have a snack?” and hears in return, “Well, you asked so nicely, of course you can!” That child learns: If I ask politely, I will receive. Now imagine the same child saying, “I want a snack,” and the parent responds with irritation: “We’re about to eat dinner! Who do you think you are wanting a snack? You think these things grow on trees?” The child learns: If I ask for things, I’m not good.

Splits happen within perception, and while painful, they also provide an opportunity to begin differentiation. Differentiation is the ability to hold onto your own identity without being overwhelmed, controlled, or defined by the emotions or expectations of those around you. It allows you to recognize your motives and intentions for a given action and to determine for yourself whether it was good or not.

As we grow older, the source of validation shifts from parents to peers. “Am I good?” becomes “Am I acceptable?” The role shifts from being someone’s son or daughter to being someone’s friend. It can feel like standing on a stage where everything we do or don’t do is judged, leaving us either basking in acceptance or fearing rejection. Adolescence is a strange balancing act: wanting to be seen yet also invisible. This developmental stage, called egocentrism, naturally turns our attention inward as we begin to interact with the wider world. It is as if we are looking through a tunnel, and the only thing at the end is ourselves.

In finding the answer to “I am good because,” we begin telling stories about ourselves, about others, and often about our perceived shortcomings. We experiment with looks, personas, and behaviors in the hope that they will make us more acceptable. Eventually, comparison sets in. We look to those we believe are “good” and try to match their status. Cultural touchstones tell us what counts as success: romantic relationships, career, education, homeownership, family. These milestones become shorthand for worth, and new roles emerge provider, spouse, parent. We pursue the things long communicated to us as what will make us happy, valuable, and acceptable.

There’s an old story pastors will say in their sermons about a woman preparing Easter dinner for the first time after she and her husband were married. Stressed over preparations, her husband made a special request: “When you make the ham, cut off the edges. My mom always does it that way it’s the best.” Curious but obliging, she complied. On the day of the gathering, she asked her mother-in-law why this mattered. The reply: “That’s how my mother always did it’s the best.” The grandmother gave the same answer. Finally, the great-grandmother revealed the real reason: “Because my oven was too small to fit it any other way.”

Like the ham, many of the roles we take on spouse, parent, provider become traditions we follow without questioning whether they reflect what we actually desire. From childhood, we’re asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Rarely are we asked, “What do you want to do?” The focus on being fitting in, pleasing others can pull us away from our core identity. There is nothing wrong with the roles we fulfill, but when they become our entire foundation of identity and pull us away from who we truly are, we enter shakier ground.

Answering “I am good because” is a personal journey. It begins with clarifying our intention the motivation for our actions. Actions driven by a desire to be celebrated depend on external recognition. Actions driven by honor come from alignment with who we are, regardless of who notices. When I act out of kindness, it is because I am kind. When I show compassion, it is because it is the right thing to do. Honor-based intention is internal, stable, and self-sustaining. It moves us closer to differentiation.

Grounding ourselves in this truth whether through gratitude, intention, or faith all direct us inward. Freeing us from the fragility of external validation. Our worth stops being a house of cards ready to fall and instead becomes a stable foundation. As we grow this muscle, we realize our value is not based on someone’s mood, attitude toward us, or on events that may or may not happen. We have survived 100% of the worst things to happen to us. And if, at the end of the worst-case scenario, we encounter pain, that is something we’ve dealt with our whole lives and it hasn’t stopped us yet.

Grounding ourselves in the true story of who we are, we can answer confidently and without hesitation: I am good because…