The Most Dangerous Habit We All Share (Without Realizing).

The Life Cycle of a Label

A label doesn’t just appear out of nowhere. It follows a cycle—quietly growing stronger with each step.

Here’s how it usually works:

Stereotype — It begins as a common assumption: “He’s not good at studies, so he must be dumb.”

Casual Language—That stereotype slips into everyday talk: little jokes, side comments, nicknames.

Strong Opinions — Repeat it often enough, and people start believing it.

Judgment—Finally, it turns into a firm judgment about who that person is.

Sounds abstract? Let me bring it to life.

Back in school, my friend wasn’t good at academics—or extracurriculars. He struggled, and because of that, he was constantly bullied. One day, he confided that he was borderline dyslexic.

Instead of empathy, people mocked him even more. They started calling him names from Bollywood movies: “Tubelight,” “Dumb,” and worse. The jokes got harsher, and the teasing never stopped.

Over time, that “not good at studies” stereotype hardened into a permanent judgment: “He’s useless.”

It became so unbearable that he had to leave the school.

That’s the destructive power of a label—it grows silently, layer by layer, until it defines someone’s entire identity.

Labels and Insecurities

Here’s the thing: labels don’t always say much about the person being labeled. Often, they reveal more about the person giving the label.

Take this example.

A friend once shared how a colleague told him, “Why is your dressing sense so intimidating?”

But was his style actually intimidating—or was the colleague simply intimidated by him?

That’s the twist: judgments usually reflect someone else’s insecurities, not your reality.

But insecurities work both ways.

If I’m already insecure about my weight, a casual comment like, “You’ve gained a bit, huh?” can send me spiraling. Suddenly, I’m not just “insecure”—I’m labeling myself as fat, unattractive, less than.

In other words, labels don’t just come from the outside.

We absorb them, repeat them in our own head, and sometimes become our own harshest labelers.

That’s why awareness is key. Because when insecurities fuel labels—whether from others or from ourselves—they strip away confidence and limit potential.

Parenting & The Inheritance of Labels

Labels don’t just pop up in adulthood. They’re planted early—often by the people closest to us.

Think about this: a parent pulls their child closer when a man with a visible skin condition walks by. No words spoken, but the message is clear: “Stay away; he’s different.” That small action is enough to plant a seed of fear and bias.

Or consider the “discipline tactics” many of us grew up with:

“Eat fast, or the scary uncle will come.”

“Do your homework, or I’ll call the Black man.”

On the surface, these seem like harmless ways to get kids to obey. But underneath, they’re feeding labels into young, impressionable minds. Over time, those casual warnings turn into ingrained prejudices.

And here’s the dangerous part: labels don’t just stay as words. They become habits.

One day, you use them as a joke. Next, they shape how you see entire groups of people. Before you know it, the same mindset is passed on to your children—like an inheritance nobody asked for.

If we want a world with fewer labels, the bare minimum is this: stop passing them down to the next generation.

Are All Labels Bad?

So, are all labels harmful?

Not necessarily. Sometimes it’s less about the label itself and more about the intent behind it.

Here’s an example.

A friend once invited me to dinner with her family. They were from South India, where rice is the staple food. I was the only North Indian at the table, and her father—wanting me to feel at home—went out of his way to buy fresh rotis just for me.

Yes, I was labelled as a “North Indian.”

But in this case, the label wasn’t meant to exclude—it was meant to include, to welcome, to care.

This shows us something important:

👉 Labels can sting when they’re used to limit, mock, or reduce someone.

👉 But they can also soften when they’re used to understand, include, and respect differences.

The challenge is not whether we label—it’s how we choose to use those labels.

From Worm’s Eye to Creator’s Eye

Our identity isn’t fixed — it shifts depending on how far we zoom out.

When I lived in Delhi, I strongly identified as a Delhiite.

But when I moved to Bengaluru, suddenly I wasn’t a “Delhiite” anymore—I became a North Indian.

Later, while working in the U.S., I stopped being a “North Indian.” I became simply an Indian.

And it hit me: if I ever lived on another planet, I’d probably just call myself an Earthling.

The further I zoomed out, the more inclusive my perspective became. My identity didn’t change—I was still the same person—but my vision grew broader.

This is the shift from a worm’s eye view (narrow, limited, close to the ground) to a bird’s eye view (wider, bigger, more open).

Now imagine taking it one step further—seeing the world through the Creator’s eye view.

No castes, no colors, no religions, no financial divisions. Just souls. One origin. One family.

That’s where the secret lies. When we look beyond the body and see the soul, labels lose their grip.

No Labels Please

By now, we’ve seen how labels shape lives—sometimes in small ways, sometimes with lifelong scars. They limit the labeled, and they also shrink the labeler’s own perspective.

So here’s the truth: every time we judge, we don’t define someone else—we reveal an unhealed part of ourselves.

I’ve been labeled too many times.

Too strong when I stood up for what was right.

A coward when I stayed silent.

Bold when others felt weak.

A pushover when I let them speak.

I’ve even labeled myself—ugly, unintelligent, timid—forgetting that none of these labels defined me.

Because here’s what really matters:

God didn’t create us with limits. We created those limits with labels.

The more we zoom out, the more we realize—at the core, we are all the same.

One origin. One source. One family.

So the next time you catch yourself about to box someone in, pause.

Look deeper. See the soul.

And remind yourself, in one voice with all of us:

No labels, please.