Growth Is in the Eye of the Beholder
By Emmanuel Echoga | On being wonderfully made, wildly different, and not needing to change just to be seen.
Written by Emmanuel Ehi Echoga | Seeking Veritas Columnist | | Sankarsingh-Gonsalves Productions
Image by Artsy Solomon from Pixabay
What Is Growth Supposed to Look Like?
They say we’re always growing.
Always becoming.
Always improving.
But sometimes, I wonder. By whose definition?
Because the more I grow, the less sure I am that growth is this straight line people talk about. It’s rarely visible. It’s rarely obvious. And it’s almost never Instagrammable.
I used to think I wasn’t growing unless something showed. Unless something changed. Unless there was proof; new muscles, new mindset, new milestone. Something I could point to and say, “See? I’m better now.”
But then I remembered something I was once told, or maybe something I once believed deep down:
I was perfectly made.
Not perfectly behaved. Not perfectly finished. But made with intention. Designed with enough. And that truth doesn’t erase the desire to grow, it just challenges why I think I need to.
Because what if growth isn’t always loud or linear?
What if it isn’t about “fixing” something that was never broken?
What if it’s about recognizing the way your spirit softens in silence, how you forgive yourself faster, how you choose peace over performance?
We don’t talk enough about that kind of growth, the quiet kind. The still kind. The kind that isn’t easy to validate from the outside.
And maybe that’s the problem: we’ve stopped seeing growth for ourselves. We’ve started waiting for someone else to behold it before we believe it’s real.
“Come and Beat Me” - Owning Your Image in a Culture of Critique
There’s a phrase that lives rent-free in the Nigerian psyche:
“Come and beat me.”
It’s not a threat. It’s a declaration. A form of rebellion wrapped in sarcasm. It’s what you say when you’ve had enough of people talking like they created you.
And for anyone who’s ever been told to change something about their body, their skin, their voice, their vibe, you know the tone.
"You would look better if you lost some weight."
"Why are you so dark?"
"You’d be more attractive if you dressed more like…"
Come and beat me.
Because what we often call “advice” is actually projection. And what some call “care” is really control.
There’s something wildly intrusive about how freely people comment on other people’s bodies, especially in Nigerian culture. Aunty at the wedding. The tailor. The bus driver. The church lady. Everyone suddenly has a suggestion for your physique, your face, your future.
But here’s the thing:
Your body is not a group project.
It’s not up for review, renovation, or unsolicited feedback.
It doesn’t need to be justified, softened, or improved just to earn someone else’s approval.
Yes, I believe in growth. Yes, I care about evolution. But the second growth becomes about meeting someone else’s fantasy or soothing their discomfort, it stops being sacred and starts becoming performance.
And that’s where “Come and beat me” lives, not in arrogance, but in resistance. In the decision to honor what God already called good. In the right to show up as is, without apology or edit.
On Being Wonderfully Made
It took me a while to understand that “wonderfully made” wasn’t just something sweet we were told in Sunday school. It’s a truth that hits different when you’ve spent enough time trying to become something you already were.
It’s not about perfection, it’s about design.
It’s about knowing that even before your glow-up, your gym plan, your self-help journey, your reinvention… you were already complete. Not finished. Not flawless. But enough.
And when the world keeps trying to convince you that you're a problem to be fixed, there’s something sacred about simply saying:
“I’m good like this. Not because I’ve stopped growing, but because I started seeing.”
That’s what makes the song “Wonderfully Made” by Falz, featuring Oiza and Meyi, so powerful. It’s not a whisper, it’s a chorus. A reminder that you can love yourself out loud. That self-acceptance isn’t complacency, it’s clarity.
You can want more for yourself. You can improve, build, grow. But if you can’t first look in the mirror and say “This is good,” then every transformation becomes a chase; an endless, exhausting chase.
So maybe being “wonderfully made” isn’t the end of growth. Maybe it’s the beginning of true growth, the kind that doesn’t come from shame, but from love.
Growth, But Make It Internal
Not all growth comes with visible evidence.
Sometimes, the most important shifts happen in places no one else can see.
We talk about “glowing up” like it’s a checklist; stronger body, better skin, new goals, more content. But what about the growth that doesn’t make it to the feed?
The growth that happens when you stop comparing.
The growth that looks like choosing rest over performance.
The growth that simply sounds like: “No, I don’t need to explain myself this time.”
That kind of growth isn’t always celebrated because it’s not loud. It doesn’t demand applause. It doesn’t always come with aesthetics or stats. But it’s real.
And what’s wild is, sometimes, people will try to challenge your growth just because it doesn’t look how they expected. You’re softer now? You’re quieter? You don’t engage the same way? That’s growth too.
And if growth is internal, if it’s a matter of becoming more aligned with who you’re meant to be, then that means no one else can define it for you. Not culture. Not trend cycles. Not body ideals. Not well-meaning friends or snide comments at family gatherings.
We all move differently. Some vertically. Some sideways. Some in spirals. Some in silence.
But we move. And that’s enough.
The Beholder Is You
At the end of the day, no one else can live your becoming for you.
No one else can fully see your intention, your effort, your softness, your strength. And no one else gets to decide if it counts.
We spend so much time looking outward for confirmation, waiting for someone to tell us we’ve grown, improved, evolved. But what if the truest growth is the one only you can recognize?
What if the point isn’t to prove anything, but to witness yourself more clearly?
Because maybe the version of you who finally forgives themselves is just as powerful as the version of you who lifts heavier at the gym. Maybe choosing not to argue is just as transformative as launching a new career. Maybe your glow-up happened quietly, in the moments you let go of shame and started sitting deeper in your skin.
And maybe you don’t have to change anything right now. Maybe you can stand exactly as you are and say, “This is me. Wonderfully made. Come and beat me.”
Growth is in the eye of the beholder.
Make sure yours are the first to see it.
Echoes & Verses Feature – Entry One: “Open the Door”
Each article going forward will include a short companion from Echoes & Verses, a daily poetry ritual I completed across 30 days—where I let music lead the pen.
Echoes & Verses Feature | Entry Four
About to plunge into darkness, soaring above the clouds like an unhinged princess
About to make claim and take ownership, nosedives are ugly but falls can sometimes be inverted.
Rekindled dreams, imploded beliefs, serendipitous traditions, plan all you will but remain benign in execution.
Despair can be selfish, and only through death can we attain restitution.
About to reclaim the future, we learn from the past but never enough to change the present.
About to relive the holy scripture, dreams become reality, as body and mind struggle to become complacent.
Outdated customs, redacted impressions, overrated war, souls sacrificed only to succumb to repetition.
A slave to intentions, when destruction is imminent, one must face internal Revolution.
6:33 PM
theinbtwnOne
14-05-2025Originally written in reference to “Roaa Ir’ro” by Ogranya, a haunting, layered song that holds space for quiet doubt and emerging clarity. The full video with an excerpt from the song you can find here.
You Were Always Becoming
Not all growth is loud. Have you ever reflected on being wonderfully made, resisting projection, and reclaiming growth as a personal, sacred, and sometimes silent journey toward self?
About the Author: Emmanuel Ehi Echoga is a Nigerian writer, storyteller, and podcast host. He is the founder of Echo Culture, a creative hub exploring how storytelling in gaming, music, and film can shift perspectives and bridge cultures. | Echoga is the author of Inbetween Worlds
 | A guest post by
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It must be a feature of people who are repressed to eventually come to the point of “come and beat me.” In Trinidad we would smack our chests and say “come nah” or “do something” with the same bravado and resistance. Interesting how cultures across space and time often carry the same seeds germinated with the peculiarities of its time and place.