The therapist’s office smelled like old books laced with bitter guilt. He slid the list back across the table.
17 ways I’d failed as a partner, father, and person.
I’d rewritten it from memory - every word, every wound. A perfect replica of the indictment I’d heard.
"When did you know?"
"3 years."
My throat tightened around the lie as it slithered out.
I’d known longer.
“Can the child within my heart rise above…?”
Stevie Nicks pierced the fog.
Intuition isn’t a siren. It’s a firefly.
A flicker in the dark, so fragile you mistake it for a flaw.
→ The founder pitching a sinking ship as “grit.”
→ The executive wearing burnout like a badge of honour.
→ My mantra: “Fix them, fix myself.”
We swat these flickers away, desperate to blend into a world of floodlights. But here’s the truth:
Your intuition isn’t wrong.
It’s the only thing not lying to you.
Pause and reflect for a minute...
What are you pretending not to know?
(Let it rise. Don’t flinch.)
You are a black swan.
Rare. Disruptive. Meant for skies, not ponds.
But you’ve spent decades dyeing your feathers to waddle with ducks.
A founder friend recently confessed: “I’ve hated my startup for two years. But if I quit, who am I?”
His safety net? A $20M valuation.
His prison? The dream he’d outgrown like a childhood sweater.
Your denial isn’t failure. It’s the chrysalis.
In the Amazon, fireflies sync their flashes to survive.
Your light becomes armour when you stop dimming it.
Your Mission:
- Name the Unnameable: Each dawn, write: “Today, I’m pretending not to know…” No fixing. No judgement. Just truth.
- Follow the Firefly: When your chest tightens, ask: “Is this fear… or my light trying to lead?”
- Release the Net: A CEO slashed her 80-hour grind to 20. Revenue flatlined… then tripled as her team finally led. Trading control for trust, she watched her team soar.
You don’t need anything more. The safety nets you’ve woven are the wings you’ve been stitching in the dark. It's time to fly.
The list of “17 failures”? The marriage I armoured with silence? The “provider” mask that nearly broke me?
They were scales I'd glued to my skin - breadcrumbs to the firefly I was ready to follow.
Your pain is not your identity. It’s your compass.
Let one thing go this week. Just one.
Watch how the light finds you.
Always by your side,
Zaheer
P.S. The bravest sentence starts with: “I’ve been pretending not to know…”. If you need a friend, hit reply.
P.P.S. If you missed my letter from last week, read it here: What is love? (And why your answer is your secret to clarity)
