THE THOUGHT

We cradle our quirks like fragile treasures, certain they set us apart.

For me, the TV volume must hum at odd numbers. Thirteen feels perfectly balanced, while fourteen strikes a dissonant note. I once thought this preference was uniquely mine, a curious trait born of something inexplicable.

Then, I stumbled across a study exploring why we tie emotions to numbers. It revealed that odd numbers are often seen as untethered, breaking free of the neat order that even numbers represent. Even numbers, by contrast, embody stability and familiarity. Some naturally gravitate toward one, others the opposite, but neither inclination is rare.

Suddenly, what I believed was my private signature became something shared, written into countless others. How often does what feels carved into us turn out to be carried by thousands?

THE DIVE

The Illusion of Distinctiveness

The False Uniqueness Effect is a cognitive bias that leads us to believe our qualities, struggles, or triumphs are more unique than they are. It a subtle lens through which we reinforce our individuality. When we assume our perseverance through difficulty is unmatched, or that our creative spark is singular, what we’re really doing is tethering ourselves to a comforting sense of separateness.

Psychologically, this makes perfect sense. Distinctiveness enhances identity. By viewing ourselves as "different," we guard against the humbling realization of how alike we really are. After all, if everyone else is navigating the same doubts, does that make my challenges less profound? If others share my talent, does that dilute my achievement? This tug-of-war between connection and distinction shapes much of how we understand ourselves in the world.

But, while the False Uniqueness Effect gives us a personal narrative to hold onto, it can also isolate us. When we overestimate our differences, we underestimate shared humanity. Imagine struggling in silence because you genuinely believe no one could grasp your experience, only to find someone else privately thinking the same thing. The irony is, in clinging to uniqueness, we often sever the very connections we crave.

If we zoom out, does the picture change? What if our deep need to feel exceptional is less about proving our worth to others and more about an innate desire to belong? This might not resolve the paradox, but it raises a provocative question: how much of what makes us “special” is the very thing that makes us alike?

THE PRACTICE

Seeing Ourselves in Others

Let’s allow ourselves a moment of curiosity. A chance to set aside the idea of being utterly unique and wonder how our experiences might echo in the lives of others. Here’s an invitation to try something simple.

Next time you feel a strong emotion, pause and consider: Who else might be feeling this right now? Maybe it’s a co-worker who hides their stress behind humor or a friend we haven’t spoken to in a while. By imagining this shared thread, we step into a larger, connected world.

Deepen the experiment with one action. Pick one person to truly listen to this week. Have a conversation where you focus entirely on understanding their perspective without comparing it to your own. Notice how their story might reflect pieces of yours. Not everything will overlap, but that’s the beauty. Connections grow most in the overlaps we least expect.

A comforting paradox emerged for me in this process: to be singular is to discover the ways we are deeply connected.