Suddenly hit with a desperate urge to move my body and take a walk in the scorching Jersey heat, I was in search of some revitalization. In such times, I resort to my usual set of speeches and podcast episodes, so today’s lucky winner was this one.

In this speech, Simon Sinek, a bestselling author and motivational speaker, shares five life rules. The last rule revolved around the following story:

Some conference had invited an Under Secretary of Defense to give a speech. Considering that he is the Under Secretary, the conference organizers flew him in on business class, provided chauffeur services, escorted him as an honorary guest to the conference, and offered him coffee in a beautiful ceramic cup. A year later, the same man was invited to that same conference. The twist is, he was no longer the Under Secretary of Defense. This time, he flew himself to the conference in economy, hailed himself taxis to and from the hotel, walked himself to the conference hall, and got himself a coffee in a styrofoam cup.

The lesson he shared in his speech was:

“The ceramic cup was never meant for me. It was meant for the position I held. I deserve a styrofoam cup.”

I am by no means as important, and will never be, as an Under Secretary of Defense, but I resonated deeply with that lesson. I keep preaching to my parents that I don’t want to chase after money, fame, and power because I’m scared I’m going to get lost in that rat race and become an entitled prick. After all, no one deserves money, fame, and power. These are just superficial tokens of “wealth.”

You see, I had this realization at the ripe age of 17. I had won the state, national, and worldwide pageant titles and was officially the first-ever Miss Teen India Worldwide. I felt exhilarated for a few months, unstoppable even (but let’s be fr, who was even stopping me from anything to begin with?).

I was invited to this one event as a guest speaker. My Dad, my personal bodyguard at the time, and I had walked through the door and were immediately greeted with the event’s organizers. Some of the guests had even sweetly asked, “One selfie?” and others handed me their children to hold and snap a picture with. As we made our way into the hall and sat at the front table, a man much older than I was, greeted me with a, “Ma’am, would you like tea, coffee, or juice?” I turned to see if he was actually speaking to me or someone sitting behind me because why in the world was a man close to my father’s age, referring to me, a 17-year-old high schooler, with “Ma’am”? I had clearly forgotten that I was wearing a massive, shiny crown on my head and a sash that literally screamed, “SHE IS THE MISS TEEN INDIA WORLDWIDE! EVERYONE GIVE HER RESPECT!”

A couple hours into the event, I had to use the restroom. I took off my sash and crown and walked outside the hall and into the bathroom. As I was about to re-enter the hall, through the same side doors I had just walked out of, I was stopped and told, “No wristband. No entry.”

I was stunned and, frankly, embarrassed. Literally minutes before, I was bombarded with the “madams” and the selfie requests. Here I was now, being denied entry.

This situation had repeated itself multiple times at other events. I eventually came to the realization that all that respect, attention, and admiration was never for me — it was always for the crown and the title.

As Miss Teen India Worldwide, I’d be given coffee in a ceramic cup. As Esha Kode, I got my own coffee in a styrofoam cup.

This is why the pageant experience was so transformative. It’s easy to get sucked into the cycle and foolishly think that we deserve to be treated a certain way solely because we had somehow managed to accumulate material possessions. I learned at a young age that none of that matters. I don’t want to be known or cared for based on my societal position; I want to be loved for who I truly am, on the inside, without the titles, positions, degrees, and labels.

I understand that we don’t have to vehemently reject the desire to climb the societal ladder. If we do choose to climb, I think it’s important to do so by realizing that those markers are not a part of our identity — our identities are shaped by so much more. We have to recognize that all of those attributes can be taken away just as easily as they were given to us. Money comes and goes, and with that, so does respect, fame, and power.

So for my own mental peace and desire to live a cozy, fulfilling life, I just want my styrofoam cup.