The only path to perpetual growth is to keep drawing a clear line between who you are now and who you used to be.
The word “growth” itself implies becoming fundamentally different. If your behavioral patterns and beliefs look the same as they did six months ago, you can’t claim to have grown.
Learning new knowledge, building new habits, and forging a new identity — these are what I consider the three core pillars of personal growth.
Learning and habit-building are straightforward enough. But what does forging a new identity mean? Who gets to decide you have one? It’s simple: you are whatever you believe yourself to be.
Convince yourself that you’re different from who you were six months ago — even a month ago. When you’ve been putting in the work and making real changes, that conviction comes naturally. But if you’re stuck in the same patterns day after day, no amount of self-persuasion will stick.
Looking back over the past six years, I break them into three-month units, and I can feel clearly that my identity shifted between each one — with every new version being, across the board, an upgrade over all the ones before it. Half of that comes from genuinely wanting to improve. The other half comes from an almost brainwashing-level commitment to convincing myself that I’ve become someone new.
If you’re in pain, it means you’re living in the past. If you’re anxious, it means you’re living in the future.
The only way to break free from pain is to change your behavioral patterns, forge a new identity, and draw a clear line between who you are and who you were. The bad things that happened? They belong to the old you, not the person you are now. All that belongs to the present you is the experience and wisdom distilled from those painful chapters. I carry the lessons forward into my new identity, iterating on myself — but the old version? That’s not me.
It helps to view your past self from a third-person perspective. Treat the old you as someone else entirely, and moving on becomes much easier.
I’ve watched too many people around me sink into memories of the past, unable to surface, drowning in endless suffering and self-destruction. These memories boil down to two things: setbacks in life or career — heartbreak, betrayal, failure, and everything in between.
Start by recognizing this: no amount of suffering will change your situation. Isn’t that true? Crying, breaking down — what does any of it change? It only drags you deeper into the abyss, leaving you unable to get back on your feet.
First, accept that what happened is irreversible. Then process your emotions — having a reaction is completely normal. Next, actively seek an outlet. Break the endless cycle of internal turmoil. Try something you’ve never done, or something you know is good for you — reading, exercise, cooking. Once your behavioral patterns have fundamentally shifted, tell yourself: “You are someone new.”
I am someone new. This version of me is different from a year ago, different from six months ago, different from even a month ago. And in time, this version too will be eclipsed by an even better one.
A lifetime holds countless transformations. And transformation, as I define it, is the subjective acceptance that you are no longer who you once were — because no one else has the right to judge the value of your life.
“Let me look at who I was a month ago — wow, I was so clueless, I didn’t even know this stuff, I was still doing those things, hahaha I don’t even recognize myself, thank God I changed, I’m so glad I caught it before those patterns could shape my life any further, thank God I changed.”
Zhengyang Yao
Santa Clara
February 16, 2026
