- I felt a lack of connection because I came
from a broken home.
I remember moving every single year
during my elementary stages.
And every year was more difficult,
because you walk into the school, you don't know anybody,
they all have their friends in groups.
And I remember walking into the cafeteria.
You know, you've got your little lunch bag,
and you're trying to figure out where to go,
where you're safe, really.
And I would look around the room,
and I would scan the room, and I would see the cool group,
and I would see the nerdy group, and then I'd see
the cute girls, and I just didn't know where to fit in.
I was thinking to myself, well, you certainly ain't cool.
You're a little skinny little kid,
and I didn't feel like nerdy or smart either.
So I set up somewhere in between.
So I would just sidle up somewhere,
and I was the type of person
who would be introverted anyway.
I didn't really have any skills in that department.
I think I even made myself feel like an outsider.
Even if somebody accepted me, I banished myself,
because I was so used to being alone.
But for decades, I still felt like that lonely kid,
walking in the cafeteria,
wondering if I'm gonna be accepted.
My brother used to call me pizza face.
It was his favorite thing because I had acne,
and add to that that I was skinny and taking protein drinks
because my parents were afraid
that my bones were gonna break.
So now I'm skinny, I'm ugly, I'm stupid, and I'm a loser.
Not a combination I would recommend for anybody
that wants to have high self esteem.
And that was kinda the beginning of me realizing
that I wasn't in a supportive environment.
So what did I do?
I'd get up every morning, I'd race to the mirror,
I'd look in the mirror, and I'd see if a new pimple
had erupted, and that was gonna determine
whether I was ugly, or uglier.
I remember lying in bed, praying, praying to God,
asking God to please remove my pimples.
Please, pleading.
I would get down on my knees.
And then I would get to the mirror, almost afraid
for that moment when my face would meet my face.
I'd be like ugh, no, are you kidding me?
It'd be in the weirdest places, right on the lip,
under the nose, and I used women's makeup,
I would go out and stand in the sun,
trying to have the acne dry; and nothing seemed to work.
And then my brother would just drive it in deeper.
Loser, bone dog, pizza face.
But that wasn't the problem.
The biggest problem was that I kept on
repeating it to myself.
And for years, even walking into a cocktail room,
or walking into a training, I still felt those same words.
So we play small inside, and then we play small outside,
and we end up living this life of quiet desperation.
Everybody has a pizza face.
Somebody once said to you something that touched you.
If I called you purple ears, you probably wouldn't care.
But if I said something that you thought was true,
that would separate you from other people,
you'd probably review it over and over again,
just like I did.
But then I met a mentor that changed my life.
He taught me that I could rewire that.
He said that you have software, Rock.
The people in your environment have uploaded
and suggested pizza face to you,
and you don't have to buy that.
You don't have to keep on
telling yourself you're pizza face.
You can change the recording.
I'm like, you can?
He goes yeah, it's not a truth.
It's true to you, but it's not true for truth's sake.
But the problem is, wherever you go, there you are.
And I took that little identity that I had inside of me.
The words that follow I am follow you.
Whatever you're saying to yourself, I am,
is who you become, and is how you define yourself.
And the thing is that you can change that in a heartbeat.
If somebody asks you how are you,
and you say I am fine, I'm tired, I'm a loser,
I'm having a rough day,
you're defining yourself everyday.
The problem is, people don't realize it.
And what do most people do?
How are you?
Not bad.
What about phenomenal?
What about blessed?
What about excited?
We can't do that, because when you do that
the world responds to you how?
Oh, yeah, easy for you.
I'm having a rough time over here.
Yet the labels come, and they're offered to us
by other people; our parents, the people who are
guardians, our brothers and sisters in my case.
Who's giving you labels?
Who's telling you who you should be?
You can rewrite that, and you get to redefine yourself
if you want to.
Who are you?
(somber music)