You know the one. It’s been sitting in my camera roll like a digital judge, staring at me every time I scroll past photos of my sourdough bread attempts: “You gotta meet me after your ego dies. I won’t make sense before that.”
Ouch. First of all, who gave this quote permission to be so loud?
It’s Tina here, and if we’re being honest—which we are, because my ego is currently in the ICU—I spent a good chunk of my life trying to “make sense” to people who were still very much committed to their own BS. And worse? I spent years trying to make sure I made sense to myself while I was still lugging around an ego the size of a giant SUV.
When people hear “ego death,” they think of monks on mountaintops or someone having a very intense spiritual awakening in a yurt. For me? It usually looks like me crying in a Target parking lot because I realized I’m not actually the “main character” in everyone else’s story.
The ego is that annoying voice in your head that says:
• “If I don’t post this, did it even happen?”
• “Why didn’t they text me back in 4.5 seconds? They clearly hate me.”
• “I must be right, because being wrong feels like my skin is inside out.”
The ego is a defense mechanism that dressed up as a personality. It’s the armor we wear to look “cool,” “together,” or “successful.” But here’s the kicker: You can’t actually connect with someone through armor. You just clink metal together and call it a conversation.
The quote is a warning, but also an invitation.
Have you ever met someone—maybe a mentor, a really honest friend, or even a piece of art—and thought, “I don’t get the hype. This is weird/annoying/too much”? Then, three years later, after a breakup, a job loss, or a massive reality check, you revisit them and suddenly… BOOM. It hits you like a freight train.
Suddenly, they’re the most brilliant thing you’ve ever encountered.
They didn’t change. You did. Your ego died off enough to let the light in. You stopped looking for someone to validate your “image” and started looking for someone to speak to your soul.
Pro Tip: If you currently think I’m being “too much,” that’s fine! Check back with me after your next big life humbling. I’ll be here with snacks and a “Welcome to the Other Side” banner.
There is a terrifying, beautiful freedom in realizing that you don’t have to make sense to people who are still operating on ego-pilot.
When you let go of the need to be perceived as “The Smart One,” “The Pretty One,” or “The One Who Has It All Together,” you become a bit of a mystery to the people still stuck in the race. They’ll look at you and ask, “Why aren’t you stressed? Why are you being so vulnerable? Why aren’t you playing the game?”
To them, you’re nonsense. To yourself, you’re finally fluent in your own language.
I’m still working on it. My ego isn’t “dead”—it’s more like it’s on a very strict diet and occasionally sneaks a tub of ice cream at midnight. I still get defensive. I still want to be “right.” But I’m learning to recognize that when I don’t “make sense” to someone, it’s not always a “me” problem. Sometimes, we’re just standing on different sides of a mountain.
So, if you’re reading this and thinking, “Tina, what on earth are you rambling about?”—that’s okay! Maybe we just haven’t met at the right time yet.
But for those of you who read that quote and felt a little chill down your spine? Welcome to the club. The ego-death recovery lounge has comfy chairs and zero judgment.