Becoming Yourself Through Daily Deliberate Showing Up
Created at: October 3, 2025
Decide who you will be, then show up each day as that person. — Simone de Beauvoir
Existential Choice as a Daily Project
At the outset, de Beauvoir’s imperative echoes her existential ethics: identity is a project we author through choices. In The Ethics of Ambiguity (1947), she argues that freedom is not an abstract possession but a practice that gains meaning only when enacted. Likewise, her famous line from The Second Sex (1949)—“One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman”—underscores becoming as an ongoing construction, not a fixed essence. Thus, deciding who to be is only the first act; the drama unfolds in repetition. By showing up each day as the person we have chosen, we convert intention into existence. In this light, consistency is not drudgery but the concrete proof that our freedom is real.
Identity as Practice, Not Epiphany
Building on that view, classical ethics reminds us that character forms through practice. Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics (II.1–4) describes virtue as habituation: we become just by doing just acts, temperate by performing temperate ones. While the popular line “We are what we repeatedly do” is a later paraphrase (Will Durant, 1926), Aristotle’s core claim stands—repetition shapes the self. Consequently, identity crystallizes not during a single awakening but through daily enactments. The person you decide to be becomes credible only when your actions corroborate the decision, again and again.
Voting for an Identity with Habits
Turning to contemporary practice, James Clear’s Atomic Habits (2018) frames each action as “a vote for the type of person you wish to become.” This identity-based approach shifts focus from distant outcomes to near-term proofs: writers write today, athletes train today, caregivers care today. The 2-minute rule—start in the smallest possible way—lowers friction and builds momentum. In this model, “showing up” is the minimal viable behavior that keeps the identity alive. Over time, small, reliable votes accumulate into an undeniable narrative: you are who your habits say you are.
Aligning Roles with Authentic Self
However, modern life demands we play roles. Erving Goffman’s The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life (1959) shows how we perform identities on various stages. Without coherence, these performances can fracture us. Cognitive dissonance theory (Festinger, 1957) explains the discomfort when actions diverge from chosen values. Therefore, the daily task is alignment: calibrate roles—colleague, parent, friend—so they express the same core self. Kierkegaard’s Purity of Heart Is to Will One Thing (1847) anticipates this unity of purpose. Showing up as the same person across contexts dissolves dissonance and builds integrity.
Rituals, Plans, and Resilience
Even with conviction, life resists neat execution. Implementation intentions—if-then plans (Gollwitzer, 1999)—bridge the gap: “If it’s 6 a.m., then I write one paragraph.” When setbacks occur, a growth mindset (Dweck, Mindset, 2006) reframes failure as information rather than indictment. Thus, rituals protect commitment from mood and circumstance, while resilient interpretations protect identity from fragile perfectionism. Together, they allow the person you chose to survive real days, not ideal ones.
Freedom Entwined with Others
Crucially, de Beauvoir insists that our freedom is interwoven with others’ freedom (The Ethics of Ambiguity, 1947). The self we decide to be has ethical consequences: a just identity requires actions that recognize and support others’ projects as well. Accordingly, showing up means more than private discipline. It extends to keeping promises, practicing solidarity, and contributing to communities—turning authenticity into responsibility.
A Small Story of Becoming
Consider Maya, who decides to be a writer. She sets a 6 a.m. ritual: open the laptop, write 150 words. The first week feels hollow; the pages are clumsy. By week four, she has a scene. By month three, a first draft. When rejection letters arrive, she revises using specific if-then plans. Six months later, a short story is accepted by a small journal. Nothing magical occurred—only votes cast daily for “writer.” In this quiet accumulation, her decision became real; her showing up, the proof.