What are you afraid of

I want to tell you something that took me an embarrassingly long time to understand. The Monday dread we talked about on Day 1 is not really about Monday. The hollow feeling on the audit from Day 2 [what fills you]is not really about the job. The drift from Africa...

What the phone reveals

We tell ourselves we are measured, rational, composed. Then we pick up our phones. On a train recently, watching a stranger scroll, something became clear. Within minutes, her face moved through joy, concern, hurt, and quiet approval. She didn’t notice. No one...

What my handwriting tells me

I used to have decent handwriting. Somewhere between boarding school cursive and my first startup, I lost it. Honestly, I didn’t notice until someone handed me a pen at a signing, and I was mildly embarrassed by what appeared on the page. That sent me down a...

You are not the weather

The weather fluctuates. Always has. We dress for it, plan around it, and rarely complain that winter arrived. Yet somehow, we hold ourselves to a different standard. Same energy. Same mood. Every single day. That is not resilience. That is denial. We have seasons too....

What books reveal

I’ve been thinking about books lately. Not just what they contain, but what they represent. A bookshelf tells a story that its owner rarely intends to share. The worn spine of a business classic. The pristine copy of a bestseller we swore we’d read. The...