Doubt

And it's not anxiety or fear. It's that silent certainty of not being in the right place wherever you are. That whatever you've done, it's not enough. That there exists a version of you that you haven't reached yet, and maybe never will.

I come from a place where questions are a euphemism. Not because people don't think, because the answers are already written. You're born. You work. You sit at the table on Sunday. You die.

These letters are born for those who still believe. For those who despite everything are sure it's possible. For all those who keep searching, door after door.

Without ever asking myself the more honest question: are these things keeping me exactly where I don't want to be?

You can slow down, sure. But don't stop. Momentum isn't lost from one hit. It's lost when you choose not to get back up.

Because the habits you inherited are not you. The beliefs you accepted without thinking are not yours. Every "that's just who I am" deserves to be questioned.

After a year and a half I asked the question I had to ask: "I want to become a partner."

In 1954 an American psychologist, Leon Festinger, put it in black and white with a simple experiment: when we don't have objective measures to understand where we are, who we are, what we're worth, what's normal, we use others as a compass. That's how the species learned to survive.

In that moment I changed the axis of the question I had been asking myself for thirteen years.

And that debt, apparently, is a better measure of comparison than any life we see on Instagram.

And then the real questions. The ones that hurt.

These were the questions that monkey mind doesn't want you to ask yourself.

In most cases it's exactly the one you're already living. All you have to do is start asking yourself those questions, and create a new point of view.