People take the little bit of information they're fed, and they

Rihanna, songstress of the world and bearer of both adoration and scrutiny, once declared: “People take the little bit of information they’re fed, and they draw a picture of who you are. Most of the time, it’s wrong.” In these words lies the lament of those who live under the gaze of many eyes, yet it is also a universal truth for all who dwell in society. For men and women alike are too quick to judge from fragments, to craft entire portraits from scattered pieces, mistaking shadows for substance. This is the frailty of perception: to think one knows, when in truth one sees only a fraction.

The meaning of this saying is that identity is vast, layered, and shifting, but the world often flattens it into caricature. A rumor, a single act, a misunderstood word—these become the brushstrokes with which others paint the canvas of your being. And yet this canvas is not the true self, but a mask, a projection, an illusion. Thus, the wound of misjudgment afflicts both the famous and the forgotten alike. The wise must learn to endure the false image and guard the truth of who they are within.

History bears witness to the cruelty of such misperceptions. Consider Joan of Arc, the maiden of France, who claimed visions and led armies to victory. To her people she was a saint, a deliverer; to her enemies she was a heretic, a witch, a fraud. Each side saw only what it wished, building its picture from fragments of belief, and so Joan was burned at the stake. Yet centuries later, she was canonized as a saint. The truth of her soul was never fully captured by either side’s image—it was larger than their judgments.

Or reflect on Galileo, who lifted his eyes to the heavens and proclaimed that the Earth moved. To the Church, he was a dangerous rebel corrupting truth; to future generations, a hero of science. But in his own time, people saw only fragments: some viewed him as arrogant, others as blasphemous, others still as misguided. His true greatness was hidden behind the veil of misperception, revealed only after his death. Here again, the world judged on scraps of information, and most of the time, it was wrong.

The lesson for us is to recognize both sides of this truth: that we are often misunderstood, and that we, too, misunderstand others. It is a call to patience, humility, and mercy. Do not be enslaved by the distorted picture others paint of you, for their vision is narrow and fleeting. And likewise, guard your own eyes, lest you too rush to form judgments from fragments, mistaking a passing detail for the whole of a person’s soul.

In practice, this means cultivating depth in your seeing. When someone offends you, pause before condemning, for you may not know the burdens they carry. When gossip whispers in your ear, remember it is but a fragment, not the full tale. When you yourself are misjudged, resist the urge to rage against every false picture—live in such a way that time itself will reveal the truth. For time, unlike people, has the patience to see the whole.

Thus, children of tomorrow, hold Rihanna’s wisdom close: the picture others paint of you is rarely the whole truth. Do not let their misperceptions define your essence, and do not repeat the error by painting others with shallow colors. Seek the full story, embrace the complexity of human souls, and walk steadfastly in your truth. For though the world may mistake your shadow, the light within you will remain unbroken, shining long after false portraits fade.