Hot or mild take, but I strongly dislike the term “self-made.” Not because I don’t believe in hard work or perseverance but because the phrase suggests something that is untrue. It implies that people achieve success entirely on their own, and I don’t believe that’s the case.
No matter how hard you’ve worked, no matter how many sacrifices you’ve made, or how many nights you’ve stayed up grinding, there’s been some kind of support along the way. Maybe it wasn’t financial. Maybe it wasn’t obvious. But help can show up in a hundred subtle ways: the area where you were born, the education you had access to, the connections available through your community, the passport you hold, the color of your skin, your family’s wealth bracket, your physical ability, your mental health, or even just a friend who believed in you when you couldn’t believe in yourself.
Let’s not kid ourselves. Being born in America, for example, is a massive advantage. Access to infrastructure, relatively stable government, public libraries, the internet, public education, and even something as basic as clean water or a legal system that (at least in theory) upholds individual rights are all privileges. Millions of people globally never even get the chance to “dream big,” because they’re too busy trying to survive. That doesn’t make your success less impressive, but it should make us pause before using a term like “self-made,” which erases the context that so clearly matters.
And look, I get the temptation of the term. There’s something incredibly empowering about telling yourself, I did this. Especially if you’ve come from hardship or fought against the odds. Especially if no one else believed in you. The narrative of being “self-made” can feel like a badge of honor, a symbol of independence, grit, and determination. But here’s the thing. Acknowledging the people and circumstances who helped you along the way doesn’t take away from your work. It just makes the story more honest.
I’m a great example of this. I was born missing my left hand, and that alone presented its own set of challenges from the start. There were things I couldn’t do in the traditional way, systems that weren’t designed with me in mind, and moments when it would’ve been easier to give up or accept limits that other people tried to place on me. But I had one critical factor that shaped the way I moved through those challenges: my Mum.
She was the constant voice telling me I could figure it out. She pushed me to advocate for myself, to ask for what I needed, to experiment with how to get things done even when the world didn’t make it easy. It wasn’t just about emotional support, though there was plenty of that. It was the belief she instilled in me that I could, and should, keep going. That even if the path wasn’t obvious, I could find my own way through.
That belief became my foundation. It shaped how I approached my disability, my education, my work, my life. And yes, I put in the work. I worked my ass off. I taught myself, I failed and tried again, I built skills, I made connections, and I showed up. But I never did it alone. I had my Mum, and that changed everything. Without her, I don’t know that I would’ve developed the “figure it out” mentality that has guided me through so many different phases of my life. Without her, maybe I would’ve let the world define what I was capable of.
I am where I am because of effort, yes, but also because of love, because of encouragement, because of opportunity, because of someone who chose to believe in me when I couldn’t see the way forward.
And I think that’s true for most people if they’re being honest. Even the billionaires who like to boast about bootstraps and hustle had something going for them. Maybe it was generational wealth. Maybe it was access to elite education or startup capital or mentors or a safety net that made risks less risky. No one truly gets where they are alone. And that’s not a bad thing. In fact, I think it’s kind of beautiful. It means we’re connected. It means we’re influenced, inspired, and supported by each other in ways that matter.
So the next time you hear someone refer to themselves or someone else as “self-made,” pause for a moment. Think about the invisible scaffolding that might’ve been there. The teacher who stayed late. The parent who believed in them. The friend who vouched for them. The stranger who offered a job or a second chance. The society that made upward mobility possible.
None of us make it alone. And there’s no shame in that.
In fact, I’d argue that recognizing the help we’ve had, whether obvious or subtle, makes us more grounded, more grateful, and more inclined to be that help for others.
So here’s my question to you: Who helped you get to where you are today?
And maybe more importantly, Who are you helping right now?
Thank you for reading,
Max
Everything worth doing requires community and connection. Stay Uncommon! Stay Kind!
I am with you, I think "self-made" is such an ego-centric term. But if I am being a contrarian here, maybe individuals who don't feel supported in any way or any sense of community might feel another type of way...unsure.