16/10/2025
I just heard someone say, "If they never heard your side of the story, then the side they did hear is just a reflection of how they already felt about you. It's confirmation bias." And that statement, simple as it seems, hit me with an intensity I can’t ignore. It freed me in ways I didn’t even realize I needed—freed me from carrying the heavy burden of anyone who has ever villainized me without ever giving me a chance to speak, without ever pausing to consider that there might be more to the story than what they’ve been told. It made me understand that the distorted image they hold of me isn’t about who I am at all—it’s a mirror reflecting their assumptions, fears, insecurities, and prejudices.
For years, I allowed other people’s perceptions to shape my own sense of self. I constantly worried about what people thought of me, tried to explain myself, to justify my actions, to prove that I wasn’t the person their narrative painted me to be. I spent energy trying to fight shadows, convincing those who had already made up their minds that their story wasn’t the whole truth. And yet, all along, I didn’t see that their story wasn’t mine to fix. Their judgments were never really about me—they were about them. Their need to feel justified in their own beliefs, to maintain the worldview they had constructed, to confirm what they already felt—they dictated the version of me they chose to believe.
Recognizing this is transformative. It’s liberating. It allows me to stop apologizing for existing, for being myself, for living a life that doesn’t always fit neatly into someone else’s preconceived ideas. It allows me to step away from the constant anxiety of defending my reality to those who have no intention of understanding it. Their story, distorted though it may be, is theirs to hold. My story is mine, and it does not require validation or approval from anyone else.
This realization also teaches patience and self-compassion. I understand now that not everyone will hear me, not everyone will see me, and not everyone will care to try. That’s not my failure, and it’s certainly not my burden. The peace that comes from acknowledging this is profound—it’s a quiet confidence that my truth stands, whole and undeniable, regardless of whether the world recognizes it. I no longer need to chase approval, defend against falsehoods, or measure myself against the distorted perceptions of others.
There’s also a strange beauty in this freedom. It allows me to reclaim energy I once wasted on frustration, resentment, and defensiveness. I can now focus on living authentically, on nurturing relationships with those willing to see me fully, and on cultivating a sense of self that is independent of anyone else’s narrative. I can embrace my growth, my flaws, my victories, and my quiet moments without the heavy weight of judgment from those who refuse to understand.
The truth is, confirmation bias is everywhere. People interpret everything through the lens of what they already believe, what they already expect, and what they already want to see. Once you internalize that, you stop taking it personally. You stop bending yourself to fit into someone else’s story. You stop giving power to their distorted reflections. You finally start living for yourself, seeing yourself clearly, and letting your life unfold on your own terms.
And in that freedom, I feel lighter than I ever have. It’s like stepping out of a dark, suffocating room and into open air—the weight of other people’s misconceptions dissolves, leaving only the clarity of my own truth. I no longer need to be defined by anyone else. Their judgments do not diminish me. Their narratives do not limit me. I exist fully, unapologetically, and completely—and that is the most liberating feeling of all.
“Andy Burg”
