‘I couldn’t finish this because someone else hadn’t finished what I needed first.’

I was already aware of how tasks were distributed and how expectations had been set. I had set them in a clear and structured way. So these sentences confused me. They were also trying to tell me something I couldn’t quite name yet.

I stay close to what’s going on with my team, so I double-checked. The work they said was incomplete — it was, in fact, incomplete. But their own work was in no way dependent on it, or on that person. If they were missing information, they could have simply looked it up. We’re not talking about deep technical dependencies here. So before they’d even finished telling me, I’d already verified the premise was false.

I also had to admit something harder: I recognized this move because I’d made it myself. It’s easier to tell yourself, even privately, if X weren’t in my way, I’d be excelling at Y.

I’d pushed hard, then quietly waited on my team to close a gap, instead of acting on my own next step.

If pushing out of sheer force resonates with you, I wrote about that here, and how I was left with only curiosity as my next move

I needed them to focus on their own work, not on perceived blockers from someone else. I needed them to see that getting curious about the process would uncover the real root cause, not the one they’d assigned to someone else.

The simplest way to show them that was to challenge them with curiosity. But first, I had to make something clear:

I knew that the blockers they perceived weren’t real blockers.

For me the path ahead of them was clear. I first had to tell plainly that their current way of thinking was only hurting them, that they were draining their own energy and I drew a hard line and did not let them continue down that path.

Before we go on, a quick note. I’m aiming for my first 100 paid subscribers. Until I hit that milestone, the price is set at $27/year. If cost has been the thing holding you back, I hope this makes the decision easier and I’m genuinely grateful you are here.

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I let that sit for a bit. Then I started asking questions about the individual tasks they were tackling.

Questions that I built to guide them, to build their confidence. I let them teach me. I already knew the answers but I am always open to learning something from someone else’s perspective.

They needed to feel seen, to feel visible, to feel valued.

I’ve been left with only curiosity before. It was my last line of visibility, back when I had nothing else to offer.

I felt for my team.

They did not need my sympathy they needed me to guide them, in a structured and consistent way. Until they could see past the blockers they thought were in their way.

Two are doing well now, building on their own.

The others still need more time. Curiosity isn’t a switch you flip. It’s a door you hold open and not everyone walks through it on the same day.

Two people changing how they work, permanently, is not a small result.

It’s the first compounding return on something I’ll keep doing regardless of who’s ready this month.

Change does not move on my timeline. If others are behind, its because change moves on theirs.

Consistency, not urgency, is what will gets them there. I showed up everyday.

Asking the same curious questions either way.

It started with a push. A push from me that snowballed into many pushes. I needed to get this done. I needed to get them to hear me. I needed to get them to listen. I had the roadmap, the updates, and I knew that if we followed this path we would reach our shared goals faster.

Two years later we are only a little closer than we were. I am still standing. I did not break — not because I had foresight or instinctively knew what to do. None of that insightful stuff.

It was because all I had left was to stop pushing.

The meeting that broke it open. I was not in the room when they made me the problem. No one stopped it. No one defended me.

Before we go on, a quick note. I’m aiming for my first 1000 paid subscribers. Until I hit that milestone, the price is set at $27/year. If cost has been the thing holding you back, I hope this makes the decision easier and I’m genuinely grateful you are here.

Being hit with the realisation that you are now defined as the problem led me to this moment. I could only respond by waiting. My manager was on holiday, so I just sat with it. I did not blow up. I did not quit. I just waited.

I told it from my side. I asked questions first. I needed to understand. I did not realise I was being curious at first. I did not defend. I did not explain. I just asked:

How did it go wrong from your perspective?

How can I do better?

What should I prioritise?

The turning point was curiosity. It was not a strategy. It was a last resort. Pushing had stopped working. This was all I had left.

Here is the kicker. Nothing changed after that conversation. Except me.

That turned out to be the only thing I needed to do.

I was rested and ready. I’d been working on how I respond to situations and it had been getting better over the last few months. That one moment felt like it erased my entire holiday.

Every push creates an equal and opposite pull. The harder they push, the further I move away.

This wasn’t a new topic. It had been discussed in team meetings. My starting times were aligned with the team. It was clear, it was simple — yet the boundaries were still being pushed.

Who wouldn’t want to support their team? Who wouldn’t want to be seen as someone who shows up? But the boundary had been set. And I knew, even in that moment, that this wasn’t really about the starting time.

Pushiness is rarely about what it claims to be about. Underneath almost every push is an unmet need the pusher hasn’t named yet.

Before we go on, a quick note. I’m aiming for my first 1000 paid subscribers. Until I hit that milestone, the price is set at $27/year. If cost has been the thing holding you back, I hope this makes the decision easier and I’m genuinely grateful you are here.

I didn’t respond that day. I wasn’t ready and I knew it. I agreed to come in a few minutes earlier to show some give — but that small compromise cost me four hours of sleep. Not because I didn’t have time to rest. Because the guilt kept me up. I’d moved my boundary and it didn’t feel right.

On day two, after coming in early, I was still told I was later than they wanted. So I asked for a meeting. I needed to name what was actually happening — for both of us.

As it turned out, during my holiday they had felt isolated, unseen, and unheard. They needed to feel supported, acknowledged, valued. Meanwhile I needed my boundaries respected. And somewhere underneath all of it, I had to acknowledge my own need to people please.

Once I understood the real need beneath the push — theirs and mine — everything changed.

I could address the root cause. I could help them see that their contributions matter, that they are seen and heard. The starting time was never the problem. It was just the symptom both of us were hiding behind.

Here’s what I’ve learned: when someone keeps pushing, stop pushing back.

Get curious instead. The thing they’re asking for is almost never the thing they actually need.

And when you find the real need, yours and theirs. The push then disappears on its own.

The company gave me the worst area. I was nobody to them and they wanted me to know it.

This was my first real job in a big corporate company. I was expendable, are we not all? They gave me the position: if I worked out, great. If not, they lost nothing. Literally nothing, because I worked only on commission.

One advantage I had was that I didn’t know I was being put in the worst area back then. I just knew the expectations were low.

So I sat down and attacked the problem.

My first advantage, I was not in my own way. This I was certain of. My second, the competition didn’t even consider me at all. I was no one. Invisible.

I knew the end goal, a sale. So what was the path of least resistance?

I got in contact with all the sellers who wanted to work with as many agents as possible. No cold calling, no real sales push. Just leveraging the company’s brand to my advantage. The sellers saw I was working for a top 5 company and gave me access. My foot was in the door.

I didn’t stop there. I kept momentum. I got a win each time I got an open listing. Fifteen wins in my first month. I went from zero to fifteen. Now I had leverage of my own.

I engaged the sellers consistently. I built relationships. When showday time came, sellers were open because I had never gone quiet on them, I’d shared the good news and the bad. I also knew the company wanted visibility, so I leveraged open houses on Sundays for buyers.

Then I made my list: which sellers would likely give me a sole mandate if I gave their property more exposure? I cross-referenced this with sellers who had genuine reasons to sell. I got the company’s buy-in to spend, and pitched it to the sellers at the top of my list.

The buyer who ended up purchasing came to that showday. Thirty days later they bought. I secured 7.5% commission and a half page advert celebrating my success in the area.

I went from invisible to visible in 30 days. I knew I was capable. I knew it was possible. I just needed to get my foot in the door.

That’s the moment things fell into place for me, the moment when I stopped fighting myself, let go, and tried something I knew inside of me to be true. When I felt seen. Not by the company, not by the sellers or buyers, but seen by myself.

What I didn’t know then was that this would become the thing I’d spend the next twenty years helping others do.

Recently, I posted a note that said this:

We obsess over the habits of successful people but almost no one talks about the habits of the unsuccessful. Let’s change that.

I got a good response from it and it made me wonder why.

First though, I think it’s important to give some context as to why I posted it. If you scroll through social media or read most lifestyle books, they give advice, guides, or processes that say: just do this; that successful person did it.

I think I want to scream now. I’m not that person and how in the hell can you compare people in different walks of life to one person who happened to find success doing X, P, or T?

When someone claims, I’ve helped millions of people achieve success — not to take away from their work — but have they really? Did they connect with every single person in real time? Or just through their work/book? How much of it is real and how much is marketing?

I recently failed, big time. It broke the trust of people I hold in high regard. My actions came from a place of pain. But how does me sharing this actually help you, the reader?

You are your own teacher. So instead of starting by looking outside yourself for the key to success, start by making a list of the things you’ve failed at.

Dive into them and ask honest questions. Use the resources you have to dig deep.

Are we unsuccessful? Am I? Where’s the checklist that says, meet these criteria and you’ll be considered successful?

And what societal standards are we even looking at? How do these questions bring me back to anything remotely helpful in my situation right now?

Here’s a list of the things that have made me “unsuccessful,” according to a Western standard:

• I don’t have a degree — couldn’t afford university.

• I’ve had three different careers.

• I suck at learning new languages.

• I’m inconsistent with my habits.

• I consume too much of the wrong information.

• I don’t wake up at 5 AM.

• I didn’t even try to go to the Olympics when I had the chance.

• I don’t believe in myself.

That was very hard to write.

You are not unsuccessful. You are right where you are. Is it meant to be? How do I know? I don’t know you and I don’t know your journey.

Start with honesty; honesty with yourself.

I do want to hear from you: what makes you unsuccessful?

Short answer to ‘will it last’ - no, it did not.

I was referring to me continuing to post on Substack. My last post was Feb 6, 2025, and it’s been over a year since I posted. I have, however, thought a lot about posting.

Reason I did not post — well, reasons I told myself:

• I have a full-time life with family, work and (insert something that makes me seem interesting here)

• Fear

Ok, so the list is shorter than expected, and point one could be seen as an excuse, not a reason. However, I feel better if I say reason rather than excuse.

Now I actually went back and reread that post, “Will it last…” and it’s actually not that bad and does highlight 2 points.

• Nothing lasts forever

• It’s ok if I do fail

Maybe it’s not the worst post. If you’re scrolling and want a read, give it a read here and let me know what you think.

Posts and stories generally have to have a point. Good writing that engages people to continue to read has to lead you on to something, otherwise the reader and the writer have wasted time.

The reason I did not continue was that I got overwhelmed. Not in the sense that a massive wave was heading towards me and I could see it and not do anything about it, but rather like I was in a small pool — let’s call that pool my life. This pool was slowly filling up, and the water that was being added were my thoughts, slowly, consistently, filling my pool.

To the point where I did not notice how full the pool was. Then one day I noticed and felt it was too much. So to relieve the pressure, I pulled the plug.

It felt safer to pull the plug, let the water out, and move as far away from the pressure as possible.

Fear.

This is where the feeling of being overwhelmed turned into fear. I had told fear in my “Will it last…” post: “I don’t want to fail, and I’m not failing, so could you be okay with me just posting?”

Fear said “Okay” — maybe knowing full well that when the pool got too full, I would pull the plug.

The attaché of just keep going makes sense here. So if I can keep on going, so can you.

Let me know if you kept going, or what you think your blockers are?

What I did not know was that the more I wrote, the clearer a target would become. I feel like a real writer who is developing a character, and their characteristics come alive as they write. The only difference is this is real life, and it's about my life experiences.

We often believe that we need to consume everything to learn effectively. However, studies show that overconsumption can lead to information overload and hinder productivity.

But here's what everyone misses: we can consume without being a sponge. We can take what we need and leave the rest. We don't have to consume everything and implement everything.

Take what works for you and leave the rest.

I started writing a blog in 2019, but my approach was off. I wanted to be all, know all, and give my all. Fast-forward to two months, and I was burned out. My blog was done. I feel different this time. I did not have a goal when I started writing this. Yes, I have a clear understanding of where I want to go now but what helped me was to just letting the words sit, simmer, and cook.

This was an unexpected power of the subconscious. How much we store in it and how much it drives us each day. It's like discovering something new; you have to share it. I had to share this with you.

How many new experiences have you had, only to realize that you had wanted them all along? This realization bridges the gap between our subconscious desires and our conscious actions, creating tension that propels us to reflect and share.

If we go deeper into that, what are the positive triggers that bring these subconscious thoughts to the conscious? I held a belief for a long time that I was not worthy to share. To share my experiences and share who I was, what made me, me.

So I stopped sharing. I stopped interacting in certain situations. I limited myself. I did this to protect myself, and it took me a good long while to challenge this belief.

It was because I challenged this belief that I knew I had to just start. Just take action.

Imagine yourself not just as a passive receiver of information but as an insightful individual who can discern, curate, and share valuable experiences.

You are not merely consuming content; you are an active participant in creating meaning from it. This shift in perspective can transform your approach to learning and personal growth.

By reflecting on your experiences and sharing them, you help others see things from a new angle. Your insights can challenge widely-held beliefs and provide fresh perspectives.

This makes you not just a learner but also an insightful contributor to the community.

I have found that, personal reflection through writing is a powerful tool for discovering and achieving your goals.

Embrace the power of self-writing, challenge your beliefs, and share your insights with the world.

Let your subconscious guide you to uncover hidden aspirations and turn them into reality.

I want to know what subconscious thoughts drove you to start something, to act.

Yet here I am mourning the loss of it.

Change is my nemesis; it is something I consistently seek out, and then I am surprised that I have made a deal with it.

I am excited about the change, but I also took the time to recognize what I have built and what I am losing. I am not focusing on the loss so much, but the growth points that I hit.

They were hard, they were painful, but oh damn, they were the best of times. Now I can look back at these points fondly as I can see the growth benefit.

I did a bit of a ritual; I walked around to the points where the growth happened. In doing so, I was able to really remember these moments. At some points, I had to remove my name to make place for the new name. This act was harder than I thought it would be. I was lucky, I think, as I did not have much time to process each point. I was going through the motions.

I don't think I would have made it through the day if I dwelled too long at each point. I created the space for them, felt as much as I could, and moved on. This was my process, and I am glad I did it.

At one time, I felt that two and a half years felt like just a ship in the night. A moment now gone. Forever part of me.

My mind wanted me to sit in self-pity, but my heart asked me to let it feel everything I could, while not judging the feelings. Harder to do than I thought.

Five years ago, I left my home country to explore something new. My goal was to push my comfort zone. I achieved my goal, even though I really struggled with it. Stepping out of your comfort zone can be difficult, and I hated moments of not being in my old zone. It was hard, difficult, and I wanted to quit.

In a way, I did quit. I stopped trying to ‘get back to my old comfort zone.’

At the time when I quit, I found a home. I found the place that I am now mourning. Sometimes when we try to get back to who we were or what we had, we lose touch with the moment, the learnings, and the beauty that we are going through.

Change might be my nemesis, but it is also my best friend, and I would not want to go anywhere without it.

What mammoth moments did you dread but turned out to be life-defining moments?

I want to know. Let me know.

It seems like there are more clear-cut opinions and fewer curious explorations of subjects. In our current state, we crave hope. We find it while we scroll.

There are truly great people out there working hard to support us. What I struggle with are the headlines that show us how someone succeeded by doing X, Y, and Z.

Initially, I want to know how they did it. They share their success stories, and it's great. It's great for them.

Belief that something can be done is amazing. It really is. It gives us hope and drives us. I get all that. This post is not about that.

It's about staying grounded when the hype is gone.

When that initial momentum disappears and the coin you flip and bet on heads lands on tails. What happens to you then?

How do you consume so much positivity and amazement without feeling let down when you don't hit the same target?

For years, I blamed myself for these failures. I thought I wasn't succeeding because I didn't wake up at 5 AM and follow the 'easy steps to success.'

There are some amazing posts out there that will help you with the steps to success way better than I can. But how do we take the optimism we get and use it to create our own truth?

Maybe I take someone's word or opinion too seriously, but I can't be the only one who feels this way. Can I?

I used to consume too much, and then bam, I stopped. I was overloaded. It was too much.

I know fear drove it, and I am more comfortable with fear now than I have ever been.

While I still remember a lot of what I learned, and I am sure it has defined me in ways I can't quantify, the best advice I gave myself was to trust.

Trust in the process and trust in myself.

When I started trusting in myself, the following happened:

• I felt more free.

• I was open to learning again.

• I could sit with fear and not run away.

• I started writing.

• I was able to connect with people.

We can take optimism and make sure we marry it with our truth. When we do that, we create something so strong. Something that makes us who we are.

How do you marry optimism with your truth?

I want to know. Let me know.

The more I write, the more I want to create.

I know I will keep my personal page as it is, but I do want to build a newsletter.

I am in the process of defining what it is I want to create. I have so many ideas that I need to streamline.

I was busy starting with my why and who I see in my community. Then I decided to write this post.

My first goal is to create consistency.

So, I am here writing and posting two posts a week for three months. To be honest, I have this feeling that I am missing out by not just diving into the process and doing more.

I used to do this—just dive in. I decided to challenge myself to understand if this is fear driving my thoughts.

Yes, it is. Fear of:

• Failure

• Letting myself down

• Losing out on momentum

Living in a country where everything is not as quick-paced has given me pause. I want to think things through and trust myself that this is the right decision.

I want to have tools in place that I can use to make the process easier to maintain.

Being consistent is my goal right now.

As most of you out there, you are also working a full job, balancing your daily life demands but wanting more out of it.

I want to find a community that is in this phase, to connect with each other and share genuine experiences. I think I will test and see if I can find this.

I started writing and posting in 2019. Not on this Substack. It did not last, but I am a very different person than in 2019.

I have been told my writing style is the same as when I talk (need to look up the name of this style). I enjoy this style as it feels more like me.

What I learned from my last failure is that I need to stay close to who I am, be consistent, and not worry about the numbers so much. This is harder to do than I thought.

These posts are for me.

If they help someone reading them, that would be amazing.

Let me know if they help you. I want to know.

Will I be part of those numbers? Maybe.

I write for myself. Thinking about how many people stop posting, I also think about why. Do the same people who stop posting also stop writing in their personal journals?

For now, writing here is just for myself. I wrote about this in my post "A place to be heard" and don't want to go over it again here.

Focusing on "will it last" - it's not just about my posting here, but about my life's progression. Nothing lasts forever. If you wrote consistently your whole life and then stopped, is that the measure of success?

Is your success different? I hope so.

Titles like "99% of people will fail on Substack" are catchy but not relevant to me and shouldn't be to you. You read that you need a goal before starting, but sometimes you just need to start.

I'm scared that my posting here won't last, and that's okay. If it doesn't, it doesn't.

Accepting your fears and giving them space, that's the real goal.

Imagine spilling tea with your fear. How would that conversation go?

Me: I just heard the thought that you wanted me to fail?

Fear: Okay?

Me: Ummmm… that's not cool. I don't want to fail, and I'm not failing, so could you be okay with me just posting?

Fear: Okay.

They don't seem to talk much when you actually give them space, but you know that in the moment you don't need them, they'll be there.

How does your conversation with fear go?

Let me know. I want to know.

Beyond the parking lot, three massive old buildings stood in the distance, grey and cold. I often wonder if they have expansive views from the top.

I focused mostly on the trees to the right. It was winter, 0 degrees, overcast, with a light fog. The only color on the trees was brown.

I stared at the trees for a good 10 minutes, not really thinking. A recurring thought crossed my mind: how can something so lifeless be part of life?

But it's not lifeless. Just below that brown, something is bursting to come through. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it's not there.

This led me to wonder: what else do I not see? What don't I know about winter?

Why does winter make me feel so closed?

Later that week, I went for a walk around the park, which runs along a massive river. In contrast, it was sunny, -2 degrees, but the trees were still brown. It felt different—the sun shining on my face, the light bringing a different feel to the same scene.

I fight winter, the lack of light, and how I should feel. To answer my questions: I don't see the value of winter because I fight it. What I don't know about winter is that it's part of nature and has massive value.

We need a time to rest and reset, not just a day or a week, but a whole season.

Winter makes me feel closed because it's nature's way to help us rest. We're not disconnected from nature; our fibers are connected.

Yet I fight it. Do you?

Fighting takes energy. I need to stop, breathe, and be. Acknowledge that I am in winter and can follow its path. I don't need to reinvent the wheel or make it better; I just need to be.

How do you let yourself just be?

Let me know. I want to know.

I am writing here for myself.

I suppose you might ask, "Why not just write in your personal diary if your goal is not to grow things here?"

Right now, this fills my need. A place to write and post that is simple.

I want the fear that comes with being vulnerable, pushing my boundaries. I am not looking to write, close my diary, and then forget about it.

I have so many used and forgotten diaries.

This is how I feel right now. Maybe this will change; I don't know.

You could ask yourself: Are you not tired of chasing after every little thing, of judging yourself for not hitting X, Y, and A goals?

Personal well-being is monetized. I know people want to help others be better. But what about just creating for yourself, to help yourself?

Creating for the sake of creating, not for followers or subscribers.

This is my one platform where I just want to write, create, and be.

Are you not tired of seeing posts with others doing or offering—with good intentions— and then feeling less than?

What is your creative space where you can just be you? Where there is no goal, just pure freedom?

Let me know. I want to know.