Don’t let labels define you
This is what I want to say to my younger self, and what I want to pass on to my kids as they grow.
Early in my career, I received my first 360-degree feedback review. Many companies use this kind of feedback mechanism where the manager, colleagues, and people from other departments all share their thoughts about our work.
My manager went through the feedback with me one by one. There was one comment I remember clearly to this day: “She is a doer, not a thinker.”
I remember feeling so hurt in that moment. Tears nearly fell, but I held them back. My manager told me not to take it to heart, but I couldn’t help it. In my mind, it felt like being called someone who just does things without using their brain.
The feedback was anonymous, so I had no way to know who said it or why. Maybe they explained their reasoning, but all I could focus on was that conclusion. It stung deeply. As a product designer, there was so much thinking in my design process—how could someone say I didn’t think?
I didn’t brush off this comment. Instead, I took it to heart and kept questioning myself because of it. And so, it troubled me for years.
I kept asking myself: Was I really just someone who acts without thinking? Did I never think things through carefully enough?
Perhaps because I was the only designer on my team at the time, with no mentor to help me work through these questions, I had to figure it out on my own. That loneliness made it linger even longer.
The truth is, I am someone who takes action. I actively think of ways to approach problems. When learning something new, I like to run little experiments, build something first, then reflect and summarize.
But I also noticed that some colleagues had a very different way of thinking. They could quickly identify the core of a problem and immediately lay out a clear framework. For a long time, I thought that was an ability I could never reach.
I realized I worked better by listing things out. When facing a problem, I would gather specific examples and cases, lay out possible solutions, and then pull them together into a framework. It seemed like the opposite of how they thought.
For a while, this made me feel less capable.
It wasn’t until later that I truly understood: it wasn’t that I couldn’t think—we just had different paths of thinking. We all have methods that work best for us. There’s no point in forcing ourselves into someone else’s approach. You can’t force a square peg into a round hole.
I also discovered that because my method starts from details, I notice things others might miss at first. Gradually, I was no longer “the person who just gets things done.” I began bringing together product, design, and engineering teams, connecting different voices. My bias for action wasn’t a weakness anymore. It became a strength.
As these realizations deepened, that old comment would occasionally resurface in my mind, but I had already made peace with it: I love taking action. I just needed to learn to communicate my thinking process more clearly. When I’m working, I am thinking. I just don’t start with a fully formed framework. I’m more of a builder. I clarify my thoughts through the process of doing.
Looking back now, maybe that colleague wasn’t trying to label me at all. Maybe they were just saying I needed to make my thought process more visible. But because it was anonymous 360 feedback, I had no chance to understand what they actually meant. So I interpreted “doer not a thinker” as “you don’t think,” and it was me who let those words trouble me for years.
I’ve realized that labels often aren’t forced on us by others. We accept them and let them stick ourselves. When we lack confidence, a single comment can grow into a definition in our minds, and we use it to doubt ourselves, to limit ourselves.
Looking back, I was so hurt because I too easily believed what others said about me, treating it as the complete truth about who I was. But the truth is, what others see and say about us is only based on one small glimpse they get.
It’s like an iceberg. What we show others is always just the small part above the water, while so much more of who we are stays hidden below. And even that visible part, different people standing at different angles see different sides of us.
More importantly, there’s no such thing as the “one right way” to work.
Sure, I still sometimes admire people who can instantly grasp the essence of a problem and lay out a clear framework. But now I understand: everyone’s experiences are different, what they’ve learned is different. Why should I force myself to be just like them? Besides, what works for them might not work for me. If I can gather examples, experiment, and then pull together a framework, that approach works just as well.
Now, when I sense myself starting to take someone’s feedback as a label, I catch myself much faster. I’ll think about why they might have that impression, but I won’t doubt myself or rush to change. Each person only sees one side. I can consider it, but I won’t be defined by it.
Reflecting on this experience, I understand how deeply labels can affect someone—especially someone who isn’t yet confident in themselves.
That’s why, in raising my children, I pay special attention to making sure not labeling them. Instead, I let them discover themselves through trying, through finding their own way.
Everyone’s growth path is different. Don’t let others’ labels define you.
This is what I want to say to my younger self, and what I want to pass on to my kids as they grow.