How Hidden Social Norms Control Our Lives and How to Break Free

[Anderson]

Discourse is a strange phenomenon. It’s like a stake driven into a person, around which layers start to build up, creating a peculiar form of interaction. This process can be both captivating and unsettling as these layers form, interact, and change us.

*Discourse is a broad term that refers to the way we communicate and express ideas, beliefs, and knowledge through language, behavior, and practices. It’s more than just conversation or dialogue; discourse encompasses all the ways in which we talk about and represent particular topics, ideas, or social issues.

I remember once when I was on a military training exercise. We were setting up field hospitals, which were made from rather questionable materials. We had to hammer together these metal poles, joining one into another. At one point, a small shard of metal broke off and struck me right in the eye. I rinsed it out, it hurt for a while, but I thought nothing of it.

A week later, back from training, someone pointed out that something was wrong with my eye. I looked in the mirror and saw that my entire eyelid was red. A tiny metal splinter had lodged itself in my eye and rusted there, spreading rust throughout the tissue. I ended up needing surgery to deal with the rust that had started corroding my eye - a frightening experience.

This incident serves as a metaphor for how social relations, ideologies, and personal beliefs can affect us. Just as the rust spread in my eye, discourses - these embedded shards of cultural influence - embed themselves in us and start to "rust," affecting our minds, thoughts, and lives. We react to these influences, often without realizing it, just as my body reacted to the rust with inflammation.

Life, in many ways, is built around these tiny shards of culture that find their way into us. If we truly want to understand what shapes our thinking, we need to look at the flow of assertions, beliefs, and practices that define key aspects of life: sexuality, ideology, family, love, friendship, success, and work, among others. Each of these concepts carries its own discourse, layered with cultural expectations and norms.

Take happiness, for example. Happiness has its entire discourse - a complex web of societal messages about what it means to be happy, how to achieve it, and what it should look like. When we understand this, we can start to free ourselves from these ingrained influences. We can critically examine the discourses that shape our lives and begin to adjust them, reclaiming our sense of agency.

The critical task, then, is to identify the key discourses that govern our lives and learn how to tweak them. By doing so, we can gain greater freedom, challenge the narratives that confine us, and start thinking critically about the areas that are most important to us.

Thoughts

The metaphor of the rusting metal shard is a powerful illustration of how external influences can deeply affect us, often in ways we don’t immediately recognize. It emphasizes the importance of self-awareness and critical thinking in navigating the complex web of societal norms and expectations. 

Discourse isn’t just an academic term; it’s something that actively shapes our perceptions, decisions, and actions every day. Whether it’s the discourse around success pushing us into endless work or the discourse around love shaping our relationships, understanding and questioning these influences is crucial for personal growth. 

Identifying and adjusting these narratives doesn’t mean rejecting everything society offers, but rather finding a balance that aligns with our values and desires. It’s about reclaiming control over our lives, rather than passively accepting the roles that are assigned to us. By engaging with and rethinking these discourses, we can build a life that feels authentic and meaningful, rather than one that simply follows a prescribed script.

[Monk]

Identifying the social scripts and hidden influences that shape our lives can feel a lot like waking up from a dream where everything seemed so obvious, yet you didn’t question it. It’s like realizing that all those unwritten rules about how to live, what success looks like, or who you’re supposed to be weren’t set in stone—they were just stories handed down to you, layered on slowly over time. Here’s a journey into uncovering and challenging those hidden narratives, told through personal reflection and examples.

This is my story

Imagine waking up one day and feeling completely off, like something deep inside isn’t quite right. You’ve been working hard, following all the “rules,” and ticking off all the boxes: career, relationships, social life. But still, there’s this nagging feeling that you’re not living your life; you’re just living a version of it dictated by something or someone else. That was me a few years ago.

I’d grown up with a set of beliefs so deeply ingrained that I didn’t even see them as beliefs—they were just facts of life. Things like: “A real job is a stable 9-to-5,” “Success is climbing the corporate ladder,” and “Good people don’t make waves.” They weren’t just ideas; they were expectations that quietly guided every decision I made, from the clothes I wore to the career path I chose. But those scripts weren’t mine; they were a collection of voices from family, culture, and society that I’d absorbed without question.

It all hit me one day during a conversation with a friend who was talking about quitting her corporate job to start a small business selling handmade jewelry. My first reaction was shock—how could she give up something so “stable”? But the more we talked, the more I saw the excitement in her eyes, the passion that had been missing from my own work for years. That’s when I started questioning everything I thought I knew.

I began by reflecting on my core beliefs, almost like sorting through an old closet filled with things you don’t even remember owning. I asked myself, “Why do I believe this?” about every assumption I’d made about my life. Some of the answers pointed back to childhood—things my parents said, societal norms that were never explicitly taught but always understood. The belief that success meant a high-paying job, or that being “too emotional” was a weakness, were just borrowed narratives. And when I traced them back, I realized they didn’t align with who I wanted to be.

Next, I started noticing patterns in my life—places where I felt stuck or out of sync. Like the constant anxiety about work, the feeling of never being good enough, and the need to keep up appearances. Each of these patterns was a clue, pointing me toward an underlying script that wasn’t serving me. It was like a trail of breadcrumbs leading back to the stories I’d unknowingly accepted. I kept a journal, jotting down moments when I felt particularly constrained or overwhelmed, and started to see the connections between those feelings and the hidden “rules” I was living by.

Language was another eye-opener. I caught myself saying things like, “I have to,” or “I should,” and I realized how much of my inner dialogue was dictated by external expectations. So, I began experimenting with rephrasing those statements, turning “I have to be perfect at this job” into “I’m allowed to make mistakes and learn.” It sounds simple, but those small shifts in language felt like breaking chains I didn’t even know were there.

One of the hardest parts was identifying the influences that shaped me—parents, teachers, friends, media. It’s uncomfortable to admit that so much of your identity might be borrowed or heavily influenced by others. But by identifying these sources, I could start to decide which influences I wanted to keep and which I needed to let go of. It was like unfollowing certain accounts on social media that no longer served me, except on a much deeper, more personal level.

Challenging those norms wasn’t easy. It meant stepping outside my comfort zone, speaking up when I’d usually stay quiet, or making decisions that others might not understand. I started small—declining work that didn’t align with my values, speaking my truth in conversations that mattered, and most importantly, being honest with myself about what I really wanted.

Support made all the difference. I sought out people who were also questioning their paths, read books that offered new perspectives, and sometimes just allowed myself to sit in the discomfort of change. It wasn’t about rejecting everything society offered; it was about selectively adopting what resonated with my true self.

Looking back, this journey of identifying and tweaking the scripts that governed my life wasn’t about becoming someone completely new. It was about peeling back the layers to rediscover the authentic self beneath all the external noise. And in doing so, I found a sense of freedom and clarity that had been missing for so long. 

So, if you’re feeling confined by the narratives around you, start by questioning them. Notice the little things—the beliefs, the language, the patterns that hold you back. And remember, the power to rewrite your story is in your hands.

 

What do you thinK?