On Committing to Consistency: What My Sister Taught Me about Self-Belief
Lessons on persistence, self-belief, and the little steps that lead to mastery
Discipline in Motion: Watching My Sister’s Dedication
I used to believe talent for music was something you were born with—my sister had it, and I didn’t.
As a 4 year old, I remember watching her go to singing class every Tuesday evening. I would ride in the car with my parents to drop her off each week. Her music teacher was notoriously strict. So on those car rides, my dad would grill her on new material she’d need to sing at practice. Any mistake, and she’d have to start over. It felt terrifying to me. Despite my parents’ encouragement, I didn’t want to be forced into the world of singing because it did not look fun.
As we got older, my sister kept going to those singing classes, often multiple times a week. I started realizing she wasn’t being forced to do anything. She enjoyed the hard work of getting better at her craft. She loved singing. She loved music. At some point, the work was just part of her journey doing something she loved. Years later, she’s made a career out of it—moving to India, becoming a successful playback singer in the Telugu film industry, and performing for thousands of fans worldwide.
My Journey: Drifting through Music
My relationship with music was a bit different. I bounced between instruments—piano, violin, bass guitar—always picking things up quickly but never sticking with anything. I have a natural ear for music so I could brute force my way into playing songs. I was drawn to music, but not in the way my sister was:
I loved the learning curve of trying to figure out something new. That process of going from “what is this thing” to “ahh, I’m starting to get it” — not just for musical instruments, but for sports, hobbies, life. I am a growth-minded person at my core and bending the learning curve is my bread and butter.
I love building, creating, and breathing life into things. The fact that you can pick up any instrument and invoke a sound to tell a story or induce a human emotion, is magical. I was curious about this form of storytelling and creation.
But if I’m being honest, my pursuit of music wasn’t so pure. I was often also in a rush to impress girls or friends with new songs. I was impatient and wanted quick wins. When I saw how much better others were at playing their instruments, I thought to myself again: I don’t have the talent to be great at music.
A Second Chance
That seed of disbelief stayed with me as I got older. Until a couple years ago, my wife gifted me something wonderful: a beginner pack of lessons to the Guitar School in NYC. I had an electric guitar that she’d given me a few years prior, but I had never fully committed to playing.
This time was different. I went to lessons with my instructor, David, every Wednesday at 6:30pm. I studied the course books, I watched YouTube videos, emailed him random questions. I wasn’t in a rush. I wasn’t proving anything to anyone. I was just showing up, week after week.
Months went by and I kept getting better. Then came the real test: barre chords. They require pressing down multiple strings with your index finger—demanding strength, precision, and patience. Every time I had tried to learn barre chords in the past, I gave up. I blamed my fingers, my guitar, an old hand injury—anything but my own mindset.
But this time, with David’s guidance, I chipped away at it. Week after week, we repeated the same exercises. Despite my persistence, I was still frustrated. Desperate for help, I flipped to the section in my course book about barre chords. The first 3 tips:
That was it. The thing holding me back from learning barre chords was my lack of self-belief. I had all these excuses in my head for why I couldn’t do it. But the only answer was that I could, and I just needed to get over myself and do the hard work. There was no substitute for it.
Once I internalized this, it was inevitable that I’d learn how to play those chords. And I did. Much to my wife’s dismay, I played Weezer’s Say it Ain’t So so many times that she’s banned that song from our household.
The Power of Persistence
Looking back at those car rides with my sister, I now see them differently. I wasn’t just watching her go to singing class—I was learning what becoming great at something looks like. It doesn’t just happen overnight. It happens step by step, by showing up and learning to love the journey. My sister was showing me the way.
It’s easy to get discouraged when progress feels slow. But all that matters is you keep moving forward. When I realized millions of people could play barre chords—it didn’t frustrate me, it motivated me to stop making excuses. I started believing that success was going to be my default outcome.
That’s the crazy thing about self-belief. It doesn’t come first. The work comes first—one small step at a time. And when you stay consistent, the belief follows and it compounds. The seeds of self-belief grow like a plant setting its roots in your head. Each step reinforces a sense of optimism, making the next challenge feel possible.
This doesn’t mean progress is linear or success is guaranteed. Doubt still creeps in. But without self-belief, you can never be truly earnest in your pursuit.
My sister is my role model. She taught me that mastery isn’t about talent alone—it’s about showing up, believing in the process, and trusting that each little step adds up. Just how music is made. One note, one chord, one day at a time.