Nobody read my writing for years.
I must have shared a hundred articles before I started to see something that resembled ‘traction.’
It pissed me off and I felt like I was wasting my time.
But there was a glimmer of hope that kept me writing.
Other people were doing it. I knew there was a way to figure it out.
I remember writing the first article that got more than three likes.
There was a notable energy shift in my process that November day.
For the first time in a long time I wrote in a way that felt enlivening.
I wasn’t merely ‘a writer.’
I wasn’t ‘creating content.’
I wasn’t a ‘brand.’
I wasn’t an ‘expert.’
I finally got who I was, and it felt invigorating.
I was a leader.
I was willing to lead with my humanity, not my perfect exterior.
Because true leadership is impossible if you’re not human.
No one follows an expert. No one gives two hoots about a creator.
They follow people.
So I told the truth.
I wrote in a way that brought out my (human) emotions:
It was about showing what kind of a person I was, without hiding.
Finally people started to respond.
Now I see writing and leading as a source of fuel, just like eating.
Not getting this is why people burn out.
They blame ‘working too hard,’ while ignoring the real truth:
Their work is flat, lifeless — without humanness.
So it cannot sustain them.
Writing and creating sustains me.
It’s why I play the game.
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