I'm going to ask you to dance so I hope you say yes
Let me tell you what I’ve been thinking about a lot lately: the end of 2025 and the beginning of the 2026.
(I know you’re probably thinking that there’s nothing particularly profound about that given we are at the end of the year, but stick with me baby, I promise we’re going somewhere.)
There are a couple past versions of myself that were required to get me to this point, that is, the end of November 2025— and they’ve absolutely gone through hell. I realized recently just how frayed I’d become; each previous version battered and bruised from constantly going, going, going and failing, failing, failing.
Going, failing.
Rejected, hurt.
Disappointed, sad.
Going again, failing again.
Failing.
Maybe you could call it burnout. But I think more accurately I felt beat the hell up. And I kept getting back in the ring, and I kept getting beat up. Tried a different ring, different arena and got beat up over there too. Every time I tried to problem-solve or troubleshoot, I got it wrong. I could be strategic or clever or sincere or vulnerable and it would still be wrong. Eventually I—