We’re often told the virtue of being “part of something greater than ourselves.” It sounds noble—spiritual even. Whether it’s a religion, a political movement, a company mission, or a grand cause, we’re taught to see transcendence in surrender. To dissolve the self into something bigger.

But stop for a second and ask yourself:

Why does something need to be greater than me in order to matter?

And who decided that it was greater? Who handed down the value judgment that I am somehow less—less important, less meaningful, less worthy—than the thing I’m being asked to serve?

There’s an arrogance buried in that message. The unspoken assumption that you, as an individual, aren’t enough unless you become a cog in someone else’s vision. That your life only has meaning in service to a system, a deity, a vision, a collective goal.

That’s not humility. That’s control.

Yes, some things are worth investing in. Yes, collective effort can achieve what no one person can. But that doesn’t make the cause greater than you. It just makes it something you value. That’s not a hierarchy—it’s a relationship.

I’m not part of something greater than myself.

I’m part of something because I choose it.

I serve things I value.

I uphold principles because they align with who I am—not because they outrank me.

That might sound like nuance, but it’s not. It’s a fundamental difference in how you see yourself in the world.

You are not a servant.

You are not an underling.

You are not a tool for someone else’s cause to wield.

You are the origin of your own values.

And whatever you fight for—whatever you build—should serve you back.

Not in ego, but in truth.