A few days ago, my 27 classmates and I celebrated the completion of our master’s degrees. As we looked back on the journey, I became curious about the people who had been part of it. So, I asked my classmates whom they had dedicated their dissertations to. Most had chosen their mothers or parents. Others had dedicated theirs to friends, spouses, children and supporters. One thing was clear: behind every graduate was a whole village. It got me thinking about how we celebrate individual achievements. One person receives a degree, another gets a promotion, and someone else starts a business. We give them the credit, as we should. They did the work, but we rarely tell the full story of how they got there. Your name is printed on the certificate. You walk across the stage and enjoy your moment. Yet many people helped you reach it: the parent who sacrificed, the friend who checked in, the boss who opened a door or the person who saw your potential before you did. Are any of us really self-made? My late father used to tell me I could become an amazing journalist. My mother would remind me of that long before I earned any degree. Their belief in me became part of how I imagined my future, even when I wasn’t entirely sure how I would get there. You and I probably don’t have the same story. Our circumstances, opportunities and struggles may be completely different. But can you honestly say, wholeheartedly, that you are who you are today solely because of your own efforts? Support isn’t always grand. It is the friend who stays on the phone past midnight after a difficult day, the colleague who takes something off your plate or the person who remembers your interview and sends a message. Not everyone contributes by giving us an opportunity or making a financial sacrifice. Sometimes, they simply make life a little easier to carry. We have become fond of self-made success stories. And rightly so. Effort, discipline, resilience, the obstacles overcome and the hard work are all worth celebrating. But does the story become any less impressive when we acknowledge the people who helped? Here is the uncomfortable bit: not everyone who helped us get somewhere is someone we would choose to keep in our lives. Think of someone who dedicates an achievement to a partner. Years later, the relationship ends badly, and acknowledging that person feels uncomfortable. But does a bad ending erase everything that came before it? Perhaps they encouraged you to apply for that job or stood by you through a difficult season. The relationship may be over, but their part in your story remains. Recognising that doesn’t mean you want them back, approve of their actions or owe them anything. Not everyone who helped shape you deserves a permanent place in your life. But that doesn’t mean they were never part of your story. This doesn’t mean giving others ownership of our achievements. Nobody can sit your exams or make difficult decisions for you. You still have to do the work. But working hard and admitting you didn’t do it all alone can coexist. We can be independent and still acknowledge that we’ve needed people. And it works both ways. Someone may remember a conversation you’ve completely forgotten or apply for an opportunity because you once told them they were good enough. You might be part of someone’s story without even knowing it. Our choices and efforts are our own. But our stories also carry the contributions of those who encouraged, challenged, taught and believed in us. Our achievements can be ours without being ours alone. The next time you celebrate a milestone, take the pictures, frame the certificate, announce the promotion and buy yourself the flowers. Enjoy it. You did the work, and you deserve to celebrate. While you’re at it, though, remember those who made difficult days easier, believed in you and opened doors. Some may still be beside you, while others may be long gone. Life has a funny way of weaving people into our stories. Some stay for years, some for a season, and some leave lessons we carry much longer. Perhaps that is part of what it means to live: to keep becoming ourselves while carrying little pieces of one another along the way. I find that both beautiful and a little humbling. The writer is a communications professional, book lover and curious observer of life.
