In my second year of college, I signed up for a contemporary dance course to top off my credits for the year. The classes took place in the dusty basement of one of the university’s buildings, in a room that could just about fit the 50 people that had signed up. Our teacher was a tiny lady, fairy-like but formidable in every way. In contemporary dance, she would advise us, you need to improvise and embody. As we practised character work as deeply as if we’d each worn the literal skin of our characters, we shed whatever limitations we had as ourselves. For the duration of each class, we were re-invented.
I often go back to those moments to remember how utterly and completely we gave ourselves permission to become someone else, and how instantly that changed what we could do. I think you can extrapolate this to any other sphere of life: People's range of what they're capable of expands exponentially when you tell them to pretend to be a self that is not theirs. They become agentic.
For a long time, we live in what developmental psychologist Robert Kegan calls the "socialised mind". Our sense of self comes mostly from our relationships and social roles, not from inner convictions or feelings. We choose college majors, clothes, and weekend plans based on what authorities and friends thought were best or cool. It's not that we didn't have our own principles; they just took a back seat to fitting in. It’s a kind of self-preservation.
But as time goes on, we start to wonder why we're making choices this way. Our true convictions start to bug us like an itch we can't ignore. We begin to notice how much social expectations have been shaping us. We realise we can look at these expectations and decide whether to go along with them or not. This kicks off our journey to "self-authorship," where we start taking charge of our own beliefs, values, and actions.
Conceptually, this transition feels natural. If you have a conviction and you have the ability to satisfy it, you do it. What could be more reflexive than that?
But I think many of us get stuck with a socialised mind, continuing to paint our story using borrowed paints and brushes. Over time, these compound into a warped understanding of what's possible, acceptable, or desirable. We build walls that define and eventually box ourselves in by. I catch myself saying "I can't do that" or "that's not me" a lot, especially in situations where I don't feel confident or in my element.
Subconsciously, we cling to the belief that the game is pre-defined. We have no control over who we’re born to, where we’re brought up, our quality of education, and how often we’re at the right place at the right time. But that’s where we trip up: we begin to conflate our lack of control over starting conditions with a lack of control over outcome. Perpetual victimhood cannot coexist with agency. To truly exercise it, you have to exorcise any belief that external forces have full control over your fate. Where you begin is chance; where you end is choice.
The first time you reach for a truly autonomous decision is usually the first time the blinkers fall away from your eyes and you see how much more you can do. For me, it was the day I decided I wanted to major in the Humanities, not STEM like most other people in my peer group. That one act radically changed my worldview, because it made me realise just how far ahead I could chart my path myself. For you, it could be anything — but from then on, you will notice forks in roads that once looked like a straight line, and almost instinctively know which path you want to take.
Once you flip this switch, there’s no turning back. It’s a challenging mental space to occupy. On one hand, you recognise that you haven’t been living the life you could have. But even as you realise that, external factors continue to exert their influence on you. Only now, you can feel them like needles in your skin. You’ve taken a bite out of the forbidden apple. But without doing that, you might fall into another trap: non-conformity for the heck of it. Without personal conviction, you might strain against the ropes in the wrong direction and only come away chafed and bruised. And since not playing is not an option, the only way to break away from the game board is to know what games you want to play.
I’ve been struggling with this a little, myself. I recently started a new job in a massive organisation (the design team alone is four times the size of my entire previous company). Part of my role is to introduce better ways of working, which is phenomenally frustrating when everyone is set in their ways and sees systems as constraints. Exercising agency within these limits often feels like double the effort. Not only do I have to make somewhat contrarian choices, but I also have to prove to sceptics (including myself) that it’ll be worth the effort.
Believe me, it can be super tempting to default to the way things were and sulk about it in private. People often want change, but they don't want to change or be changed themselves. It’s a self-defeating loop you can experience as painfully as a stone embedded in your shoe. Having a victim mindset—that we’re powerless and at the mercy of external forces—is the antithesis of agency because it reinforces passivity.
There’s a quote from the book Crucial Conversations that I keep going back to in these situations:
As much as others may need to change, or we may want them to change, the only person we can continually inspire, prod, and shape—with any degree of success—is the person in the mirror.
When trying to change the person in the mirror, I like to remind myself that there are degrees of consequence. Not every decision carries the same weight; not every unconventional choice needs to be explained as if it were a life-altering decision. This really channels my energy into action, not defence. I stop feeling the need to justify minor decisions and don’t pay attention to what I think others think. It also means I can focus on evaluating their consequences for me. Am I ready to own the outcomes, whatever they may be? What are the potential ripple effects of my choices? How far am I willing to go in pursuit of my convictions? There’s a stupidly simple way to put this: “what could go wrong?”
One consequence of making choices that are in conflict with the status quo is that you’ll invariably experience friction. People are typically sceptical and dismissive of others displaying agency. After all, many of us spend years tweaking our lives, relationships, or careers to fit what we think are the "right" guidelines. So when we run into people who are winning without playing by the same rules we’re playing by, we’re coloured embarrassed. Other people’s confidence is embarrassing because it holds up a mirror to our lack of it. Validating them would mean admitting that we were playing a weaker game the whole time, so we don’t. It took me weeks of self-examination to realise that when anyone said “what makes them think they can do that?” they most likely meant, “why can’t I?”
That’s where consistently agentic people differ: they operate from a place of self-permission and self-trust. Their agency is built on the backs of numerous decisions where they've trusted their convictions and seen positive outcomes. Each time they make a choice that goes against the grain and it turns out well, it reinforces their trust in their own decision-making abilities. I think this acts as a thick skin against criticism and turned-up noses: instead of immediately second-guessing themselves, they're more likely to evaluate feedback objectively and pick out what resonates with them. Baseline social criticism is just…water off a duck’s back. Over time, they begin to play games of their own design that many of us can’t fathom.
I don’t think the goal of agency is to be completely independent of social influence. That's neither possible nor desirable. As humans, we’re inherently social, and our wellbeing and growth will always be intertwined with the larger group. Even those who actively reject societal norms are still defining themselves in relation to those norms. The idea, I think, is to cultivate discernment: the ability to first recognise helpful vs. harmful social influences.
Agency is also differential. I consider myself decently agentic in my personal life, but not so much at work, where my circle of influence drastically changes. I don’t necessarily see that as a failure of agency. I’m still evaluating benefits and consequences, and focusing my effort on increasing agency where it matters most to me.
With agency, there’s no finish line. There’s no Final Boss to kill that certifies you as a Truly Agentic Person. Agency feels very much incremental to me: every autonomous decision increases my baseline of agency. I become more comfortable with discomfort. The anxiety of going against the grain lessens, and I start to trust my judgement more. In life, as in dance, the key to exercising agency lies in our capacity to improvise and embody.
This essay is part of my series on conviction, which began here. Since each essay is somewhat leading to the next, I’d love to know what you think I should dive deeper into from this essay. Please hit reply or comment if you’re on the app, I read and reply to everything :)
Hi Sindhu, I've been an admirer of your writings for a while. Your sentence structuring coupled with timely references to others work is refreshing! Incredibly resonate with everything you put out as a part of the conviction series. Would love for you to explore on separating stubbornness from conviction. I believe your exploration on the fine nuance over there would make way for a worth-while read :)
This is really good!
I'm curious how pretending to be a different self is or isn't utilized by you and why.
Im also curious about the non-peer pressure type of agency. I have more struggles fighting distractions than going against the grain usually. Do you think it's the same 'agency', or is it just the same word bt two different things?