And yet... loneliness is at an all-time high. People can’t seem to enjoy dating anymore. Relationships feel disposable.

There’s a line from an Armin van Buuren song called Alone that I keep coming back to:

“Everyone’s connected, but no one is connecting. The human element has long been missing.”

That’s exactly where we are.

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We turned dating into HR

Two female friends of mine, from different parts of the world, recently shared almost identical experiences about dating.

Download a bunch of apps, set up the “perfect” profile. Lots of scrolling, lots of dumb messages. And at some point, frustration kicks in and the apps get deleted.

I find this fascinating. And I should be upfront: I haven’t dated since 2010. Rosie and I got together when we were 22, back when the closest thing to a dating app was becoming Facebook friends and messaging there. So everything I’m about to say is based on observation and listening to people talk about it, not lived experience.

Swiping through profiles looks a lot like an HR person browsing CVs. The first date is a job interview. And if you’re not the perfect candidate... you’re out. Next. Someone else will apply anyway.

In our world of consumerism, romantic partners have been commoditized. People flick through profiles like they flick through shoes or t-shirts. And because there seems to be an unlimited supply of potential dates, everyone has become extremely picky. They won’t settle for less than perfection.

It’s an endless cycle:

1. Swipe.

2. Match.

3. Message.

4. Date.

5. “They’re nice, but I’m not sure... there’s probably someone better out there.”

6. Back to step one.

And I think those two things are connected.

When you believe someone better is always one swipe away, why would you ever do the work to get through a rough patch?

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The stakes are too high from day one

When I was younger and met a girl I liked, things were simple. We spent time together, spoke, did stuff, learned to know each other. Most couples I knew started as friends. Things developed naturally.

That’s actually how Rosie and I started. We ended up sharing an apartment in Sydney - with 5 other people - just a few weeks apart. We shared meals, explored the city together, watched movies, went out. No agenda. Just two people getting to know each other.

From what I’m seeing now, people approach dating with a completely different frame: I’m on the hunt for the love of my life.

That puts so much pressure on every interaction. There’s no room for silly moments, awkward silences, the small oopsies. No room for being human with each other.

And when the first roadblock comes - as it always does with real people - the exit is right there. An infinite feed of new options. So people bail. Done. Moving on.

What I’ve been doing instead

I’m not looking for a romantic partner. But when Rosie and I arrived in Bangkok, we didn’t know anyone. I had one internet friend, Mark, that I’d met once for a couple of hours. That was it.

First thing we did: downloaded the Meetup app and looked for events we could attend. Not the underground parties advertising free alcohol - slow events, where you spend a few hours together, share a drink in a quiet cafe or a meal. Places where you actually talk to people.

I’ve also been going to every Futera United football game to build the friendship with Mark. Each trip is 1h45 there, 90 minutes of football, 1h45 back. It’s not easy. But I’m glad I do it - I met his wife, some of his mates, and we started playing padel together.

Then at a board game meetup in March, I met an Australian guy named Luke. I’d picked that event on purpose - a nerdy cafe, the kind of place where I knew I’d meet people with similar interests. Luke and his wife have since become really good friends of ours. Now there’s 8 of us playing padel on a weekly basis together.

I really got into padel here. What’s cool is that if you don’t have friends to play with, you can use a couple of apps to join other people’s matches. Great way to meet people with a similar hobby.

Are those people perfect? Probably not, but neither am I.

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What I would do if I was single

I’m still looking to make friends, and I’ll keep doing that.

But if I was alone and looking for more... I don’t think I would jump on those online dating apps. I’d have the exact same approach: go do things with other people, connect, have conversations, build connections. And I’m 100% sure the rest would follow naturally, if it’s supposed to happen.

No huge expectation about meeting The One. No massive pressure every time I open my mouth. Just basic human connections, from one person to another.

People are not profiles. We’re not objects. We’re humans, with feelings, with flaws. All of us.

In a world where feeds and algorithms are taking so much of our precious time and dictating so much of how things work... I’m certain of one thing. The best way to meet people - friends or lovers - is by being a good old-fashioned human being and talking to people in real life.

Everyone’s connected, but no one is connecting.

Maybe the answer was never another app.

J

But I knew she wasn’t happy. Not really.

In my head, the answer was obvious: end it, move on, enjoy life. Simple. (I was very wise back then, clearly. 😅)

She couldn’t do it though. And when I pushed her on why, she eventually admitted it: she was terrified of being single. Of being alone. Of not knowing what came next.

She knew she was unhappy. She just preferred a known unhappiness over an unknown future.

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Around 2021, I had what looked, on paper, like a pretty great job situation. Working from home, full trust and autonomy from my managers, a good salary, a role I could do with my eyes closed.

And I was miserable.

Not in a dramatic way. Just... bored. Stagnant. Completely uninspired. I felt like I was slowly fading. The thought of change was always there, nagging, but so was the fear. How do you walk away from something “perfect”? Who quits a comfortable, well-paying job to go backpack around the world at 30-something? It felt crazy.

So I stayed stuck. Until I didn’t. But more on that in a minute.

And if you’re reading this newsletter, I’d bet that some version of this is familiar. Maybe you don’t hate your job, you just don’t enjoy it. Everything feels a bit... meh. Or maybe you do hate it, and it’s bleeding into everything else: your mood, your relationships, the patience you have left at the end of the day. Yet you’re not making a move. Because what if the next thing is worse? What if you quit and struggle to find something new?

What if, what if, what if.

In 2016, my managers called me into the office with an offer: they were expanding to Miami and wanted me to help set things up. My immediate reaction was to mentally start packing my bags. Rosie’s reaction was... different.

We’d built a comfortable life in the South of France by then. Married, apartment, two cars, jobs, friends, plans to start a family. Life was good. Stable. Known.

Moving to a new country, a new continent, to a city with a reputation that wasn’t exactly reassuring? She wasn’t sure. The unknown was doing its thing, filling in the blanks with worst-case scenarios.

We talked it through. Decided to try it for a year, knowing we could always come back. And eventually, she said yes.

Three Stories, One Pattern

A relationship that felt safe but made her unhappy. A job that felt comfortable but was slowly draining me. A move that felt risky but turned out to change everything.

In all three cases, the same thing was happening: the fear of the unknown was winning over the possibility of something better.

And it’s not random. It’s not weakness. It’s actually just how the brain works.

The primitive part of our brain, the part wired for survival, doesn’t care about happiness, fulfillment, or growth. It cares about keeping us alive and safe. Back when “safe” meant not getting eaten, that instinct was useful. Today, it mostly just keeps us stuck in jobs we hate and situations we’ve outgrown.

When we imagine making a change, the brain doesn’t naturally wander toward the upside, how free she might feel, how energized we might be in a new role, how incredible Miami might turn out to be. It goes straight to the threat. The downside. The worst case.

We’re essentially making life decisions based on half the picture.

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Why We’re Wired This Way

I think a lot of it starts much earlier than we realize.

From the moment we enter the school system, we’re taught that following the rules leads to good grades, good grades lead to praise, praise leads to the next step. Any deviation from the path gets corrected. Punished. We learn fast.

By the time we become adults, most of us have become good sheep. We follow the script. We conform. We do what’s expected. And any time we’re tempted to color outside the lines, there’s usually someone around to remind us why that’s a bad idea.

The result? The brain, shaped by evolution and decades of conditioning, defaults to keeping us stuck.

The problem is that nothing grows in comfort. Things quietly fade there instead. And by the time we notice, a lot of time has passed.

That sense of security we feel in a familiar situation is also, in many cases, an illusion. Ask the people who spent years in “safe” corporate jobs and were let go anyway.

The One Thing That Helped

When I was stuck in that comfortable-but-miserable job situation, what eventually got me unstuck was a fear-setting exercise. The idea is simple: instead of letting your imagination run wild with vague worst-case scenarios, you write them down. You look at them clearly. You ask how bad they actually are, how likely they are, and what you’d do if they happened.

Then, and this is the part most people skip, you do the same for the upside. And for the cost of doing nothing.

I’ve written about it in detail here, and I have a free workbook you can use to walk through it yourself.

Get the Free Workbook

I won’t go deeper into it in this post, because that’s not really the point today. The point is: when I finally looked at the full picture instead of just the risks, the decision became obvious. I quit. And I have zero regrets.

How It All Turned Out

My friend eventually ended the relationship. Not long after, she met someone else. They’ve been married for years now and have kids. She built the life she was too scared to imagine.

Rosie said yes to Miami. We ended up staying three and a half years. It became one of the most defining chapters of both our lives, a place where we healed, grew, and changed in ways we hadn’t expected. Best decision we ever made.

And me? I’m writing this from Bangkok, working for myself, doing work I actually care about. No regrets either.

In all three cases, the fear of the unknown turned out to be exactly that: a fear. Not a prediction. Not a guarantee. Just the brain doing what it does, protecting us from a lion that wasn’t there.

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Most People Will Read This and Do Nothing

I say that with no judgment, because I was one of those people for a long time.

You’ll recognize yourself in one of these stories. You’ll nod. Maybe you’ll share it. And then you’ll go back to your day, and nothing will change. Because that’s what most people do. Not because they’re lazy or cowardly, but because the pull of the familiar is genuinely strong, and the brain is genuinely good at talking us out of discomfort.

The one thought that usually follows is: “Yeah, it worked out for them. But my situation is different.”

Maybe. But probably not as different as you think.

If you’re sitting with a change you’ve been avoiding and you want some help actually working through what’s keeping you stuck, that’s exactly what I do. Book a free call and let’s talk. No pitch, just an honest conversation.

Let's talk!

J

Wow, April was a busy month. Once again, I didn’t go anywhere this month, but… that won’t be the case next month. Got a VERY exciting trip planned! Stay tuned 👀

💛 Every month, paid subscribers get a more personal look at what’s been going on in my life: where I’ve been, what I’ve been working on, and a few things I’ve enjoyed along the way.

This isn’t a polished highlight reel. It’s the real stuff behind the posts - the wins, the slower moments, the things I’m figuring out. Plus a few favorites from the month: books, podcasts, articles, or anything else worth sharing.

These stay behind the paywall for two reasons: they’re personal, and I like keeping that side of my life for the people who actively choose to support this newsletter. Your support is what makes it possible to keep everything else free and open.

April 1st to April 30th: Thailand 🇹🇭

We started the month by going to the cinema to watch Project Hail Mary. I absolutely LOVED the book, so I was super excited to see the movie adaptation with Ryan Gosling. I really enjoyed it. It’s not as deep as the book (it never can be)… but overall they nailed the storytelling and the characters. Rocky was so cute 🥹

A couple of days later, I had a boring admin task: doing my 90-day reporting.

When you stay in Thailand for more than 3 months without leaving the country, you need to report it to immigration. It’s not complicated, but it gets super busy - you can queue for 4h+ for it. Luckily, I was able to snag an appointment online, meaning I just had to show up at the immigration office 5 minutes before my time slot with some papers… and I was out of there in 10 minutes.

Nothing exciting there, apart from the fact that the immigration building was GIGANTIC.

The first half of the month was pretty uneventful… I barely took any pictures. We played a lot of padel (it’s now officially a weekly thing, we even bought our own rackets)… went to a very cool café to work… and I bought some water guns for the upcoming Songkran celebrations (more on that below).

I’m still working out at the gym 4 times a week. I actually had 3 sessions with a personal trainer, which was interesting: good to get feedback on my posture and movements.

Then from April 13th… things got busy!

Thailand celebrates their new year, Songkran, every year on April 13, 14, and 15. One of the customs, linked to Buddhist traditions, is to cleanse your body with water - a sort of fresh start for the new year. Throughout the years, this tradition (still followed in Buddhist temples) evolved into big street water fights.

So on the 13th and 14th… Rosie and I got our water guns ready… and we joined the party!

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Then I left my job. Became my own boss. “I’m even more fucked. I’m basically unemployable at this point.”

Then we left Miami with our suitcases and no return ticket. “Yeah... I’m completely fucked. I can’t go back to a normal life.”

I was joking… Kind of….

What I didn’t realize at the time was that each one of those moments was a door opening. And once you walk through it, it doesn’t close behind you. It disappears.

You don’t know what you don’t know... until you do. And once you’ve opened Pandora’s box, you can’t close it.

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I’ve been living in Bangkok for about four months now.

Most of the time, I like it here. The food is incredible. I have a beautiful apartment, I can see the swimming pool from the windows as I’m typing this. The cost of living makes sense. The city has energy.

But some days… honestly most days for a while, I look at my life and feel... meh.

Not sad. Not miserable. Just flat. Like I’m going through the motions of a life that doesn’t quite fit.

I know how that sounds. I’m in Bangkok. I work for myself. I have freedom most people would trade a lot for. Trust me, I’m aware of the privilege here.

But it doesn’t make the feeling less real.

I think I’ve rewired myself in a way that made regular life almost incompatible with who I’ve become.

It started with loss. In 2017, after we lost our son, I made a promise, more to him than to myself honestly, that I would live the best life I could possibly live. That I would stop postponing happiness. Stop living on autopilot.

That promise set something in motion that I don’t think I fully understood at the time.

Years of intentional discomfort, growth, expansion... I became someone who only feels fully alive when being challenged. When things are new, unpredictable, hard. I started to understand that comfort makes you stagnant. That growth lives at the edges.

And now here I am, in a comfortable apartment, with a gym membership, a regular schedule, the same streets every day.

And I feel like I’m breaking that promise.

That’s the thing that actually bothers me. Not Bangkok. Not the routine. The feeling that I’m not living up to what I committed to. That somewhere, that little boy is watching, and I’m not delivering.

That’s the quiet anxiety underneath it all.

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There’s something no one talks about when it comes to personal growth: it raises your baseline.

You go through the work. You expand. You build a version of yourself that craves challenge, novelty, aliveness. And then one day, you find yourself in a season of life that doesn’t match that version, and normal life feels like wearing someone else’s clothes.

Where some people find comfort in anchors, a cozy apartment, familiar things, a place that feels like home, I find myself feeling weighed down by them. The gym membership, the lease, the fixed expenses. Each one a small reminder that I’m less free than I was.

Rosie is the opposite. She finds security in those things. She is genuinely happier here than she’s been in years, and I can see it clearly. That matters to me.

I want to say something about this, because it’s important.

No one forced me to settle in Bangkok. Rosie didn’t threaten me. She expressed what she needed, stability, a home, space to breathe, and I said yes. Freely. Because it’s the right thing to do, and because I love her.

We’ve been together a long time. For most of our relationship, “I called the shots.” We moved from Paris, a city she loved, to the south of France because I was done with Paris. Then to Miami for my job. She always had my back without hesitation.

So when she told me she needed this, I didn’t have to think long.

That’s what a real partnership looks like. Not two people always getting what they want. Two people taking turns holding the other one up.

But the discomfort I feel is my problem. Not Bangkok’s. Not Rosie’s. Mine.

Blaming her would be the easy route. A lot of people take that route. We live in a world where it’s always someone else’s fault, always someone else’s responsibility. Pointing fingers is comfortable. It gets you off the hook.

But it’s also a lie.

I chose this. I own it. And that means the work of figuring it out is mine to do.

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Things have been shifting a little over the past few weeks.

Work picked up, which helped more than I expected. There were a few months where things were really slow, not making enough, feeling unproductive, wondering if I was failing. That does something to you. It’s hard to feel good about life in general when work isn’t working. When business started moving again, some of that heaviness lifted.

We also made real friends here. Two couples we actually see regularly, play padel with weekly, text for no reason. Sometimes it’s couples hanging out, sometimes it’s the boys, sometimes Rosie goes off with the girls. That kind of easy, low-drama friendship... it helps.

And this past weekend, Rosie and I decided to book a trip to Japan. It’s been at the top of our list for years. Just sitting there planning it, staring at my phone for hours, looking at cities and temples and places to eat... something woke up. I’m so excited to see somewhere new, a place I’ve always been intrigued by.

I think that’s part of the answer: I need to find ways to get my “aliveness” fix without blowing up a life that’s working for Rosie. Weekend trips. New parts of the city to explore. A new country here and there when finances allow.

That last part matters. When we were traveling full time, traveling was our expense. Now we have fixed costs no matter where we are, the apartment, the gym, electricity, all of it. A trip on top of that is a holiday, not a lifestyle. With both of us self-employed, planning that far ahead financially isn’t always easy. So it depends. But things are better right now, and I have some visibility on the next few months. For now, that’s enough.

And there’s something the stability gave me that I genuinely couldn’t have had on the road. In January, I got a DEXA scan done, a quick test that measures bone density, muscle mass, body composition. I did it out of curiosity, mostly because for the first time I’d actually have consistent gym access. What was supposed to be fun data turned into something more serious: my muscle mass and bone density were low enough that the doctor told me, go lift weights, fix your nutrition, come back in 12 months. So now I go to the gym four times a week. I eat like I mean it. I’m building something for future-me that simply wouldn’t have been possible while living out of a backpack.

So even in the “meh,” something real is happening. I just haven’t made this chapter feel memorable yet. I’m working on it.

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Last week I wrote about Nietzsche’s eternal recurrence, the idea that you should be willing to live this exact life again, infinitely, in every detail.

My last three or four months? They wouldn’t pass the test. Not yet.

But I know that’s not permanent. I know I’m capable of turning this into something worth repeating. The question is just how. How to find joy and aliveness without constant movement. How to be someone who fits into this chapter without losing who I’ve become.

That’s the work. And I don’t have a clean answer yet.

Have you ever been in a season of life that didn’t feel like you?

Not a bad life. Just one that didn’t quite fit the person you’d become. I’d genuinely love to know how you moved through it. Reply and tell me.

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J

The idea: imagine you had to live this exact life again. Infinitely. Every moment, every decision, every mistake, every loss. Not a better version. Not a second chance. This one. Exactly as it happened.

Could you say yes?

I came across this idea a few days ago and haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Not because I have a clean answer, but because I don’t. And the more I sit with it, the more I think the discomfort is the whole point.

Why it’s a useful test

Before I get into my own mess, I think Nietzsche was onto something real here.

Most of us don’t consciously evaluate how we’re living. We drift. Days turn into weeks, weeks into years, and we wake up one morning wondering how we got here. The eternal recurrence cuts through that drift in a way most questions don’t. It forces a gut check.

If your first reaction is “God, no, I wish I had done things differently,” that’s telling you something important. Not to spiral in regret, but to pay attention. To ask whether you’re living in a way that, at the end, you could actually stand behind.

I’ve always had a similar question I ask myself: would I be okay with how I lived if it ended tomorrow? Nietzsche’s version is harsher, not just okay, but willing to do it all over again. Forever. But they’re pointing at the same thing.

I’d rather regret something I tried than something I never had the guts to attempt. When I put my life through this test, that’s the lens I’m using.

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My honest answer

Overall? Yes. I’m 38. I haven’t even hit the halfway point (I hope). But if I zoom out at my life so far, the French village I grew up in, Australia, Miami, four years on the road, landing in Bangkok, I can say yes. I’d do it again. The mistakes, the detours, the friendships that fell apart, the professional failures. All of it led somewhere worth being.

But there are a few moments where my brain just... stops.

And as always when I go deep on something like this, I come back to the infant losses.

Rosie and I went through four pregnancy losses. The hardest was the termination for medical reasons in 2017. I’ve written about it before, but I won’t pretend it gets easier to revisit. That experience was the most painful thing I’ve ever been through. The situation. The decision. The aftermath. Watching Rosie break, and breaking myself. Nearly losing her in the process. All of it.

Would I go through it again?

I have to be honest here, even though part of me, as a coach, feels like I should give you the growth narrative. You know the one: “It was awful, but it was necessary. It woke me up. Everything happens for a reason.”

That would be a lie.

That experience was a catalyst. It cracked me open in a way nothing else had. It’s the reason I started questioning how I was living, why I eventually “escaped the matrix” and built a life on my own terms. In this life, I can trace a direct line from that loss to everything I love about my life today.

But would I voluntarily go through it again, knowing how painful it would be, even knowing the outcome? I genuinely don’t know. I don’t think I could. It broke us individually. Rebuilding was hard. I don’t want to do it again. Ever.

Does that mean I’d choose to stay stuck in the matrix instead? That’s what this question feels like, being asked to choose between cutting off my left arm or my right. I’d like to believe that even without that experience, I would have found my own way to wake up eventually. Through other experiences, other breaking points, other moments of clarity. But I’ll never know that.

And I think that’s okay.

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The part nobody tells you

Nietzsche’s test isn’t really asking whether every moment was worth it. Some moments aren’t. Some things that happen to us are genuinely terrible and we’d be lying to ourselves if we dressed them up as gifts.

What the test is really asking is: in spite of those moments, do you stand behind the arc of your life?

And there, I can say yes.

I’m not at peace with everything that happened. I never fully will be. But I’m at peace with how I responded to it. With the choices I made in the wreckage. With the life I built on the other side of it.

That’s a different kind of yes. Not “I’d choose the pain again.” But “I’d choose who I became because of it.”

I think that’s the honest version of passing the test.

Where this leaves you

Most of us, when asked about our lives, give the surface-level answer. “I’m good. Things are fine.” It’s the socially acceptable response. The mask we wear without even noticing.

But deep down, we can feel the truth.

This question is uncomfortable for a reason. If something bubbles up when you sit with it, that’s worth paying attention to. Not to spiral, but to get honest with yourself, maybe for the first time in a while.

Nobody else is going to do this evaluation for you. And the sooner you do it, the more time you have to actually do something about it.

So one more time:

If you had to live your life exactly as it is, all of it, would you say yes?

And if not, what would need to change?

J

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That’s not what happens. At least, that’s not what happened to me.

The changes travel brought into my life were subtle. Progressive. Almost invisible while they were happening. I only really noticed them when I looked back.

The best way I can explain it is with your iPhone camera.

When you’ve never traveled, you see the world through a very narrow, zoomed-in lens. Think x8 zoom. You can see clearly, but only a tiny section of what’s actually in front of you. You’re missing enormous amounts of context.

Each time you travel, you zoom out a little. x4. x2. x1.

You start to see what was always there, just outside your frame. And slowly, you build a picture of the world that’s actually close to what the world looks like.

Here’s what I mean. These are four photos I took of my apartment wall this week.

Same wall. Same photos. Completely different picture depending on where you’re standing.

That’s what travel does to your worldview.

I know this because I started from about as zoomed-in as it gets.

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Where I started

I grew up in a village of 1,500 people in the south of France, near Perpignan. Everyone knew everyone. Ways of thinking, ways of living, they were all more or less the same.

There was some diversity around me, mostly due to the proximity to the Spanish border. People from Spain, Portugal, North Africa. But the message I absorbed from the adults around me wasn’t about tolerance or curiosity. It was closer to: “this is the right way to live. Everything else is wrong.”

And more specific things on top of that. Don’t trust Arabs and Muslims, they’re bad people. Don’t bring a girl home from there, or you’re out.

The TV news wasn’t much better. It never said anything directly, but the images they chose told their own story. Whenever something bad happened, the faces shown were always the same. The brain connects dots quickly.

As a good kid who listened to the adults... I believed all of it.

My first small zoom out was going to university in Toulouse. Bigger city, more people, slightly more variety. But the overall environment was still familiar enough that it didn’t shift much in me.

The first real shift came in Australia.

Sydney, 2010

I was 22. I spent six months there doing an internship - a new language in practice (my English was pretty rough), a new culture, a completely different way of life. I lived with people from Brazil, the Netherlands, England, Germany. I worked alongside Australians, Spanish, Bangladeshi.

And I quickly met Rosie. She’d grown up very differently from me. Her parents traveled. She’d been exposed to a lot, in good ways and in harder ways too. She was already zoomed out in ways I couldn’t yet see.

I remember walking around the city and seeing people with really eccentric looks, or people doing tai-chi in the park, and my immediate reaction was basically: what is wrong with you. Why are you so weird? Why are you doing that in public? You’re not supposed to do that.

Rosie would look at me and ask, genuinely: “Why do you care? Why does it bother you?”

I didn’t have an answer. The only thing I had was “it’s weird. It’s not normal.”

Which, of course, is not an answer at all.

But here’s what that moment actually was: it was the first time I became aware that I had a problem. I couldn’t justify my reactions. I had no real argument. Just a reflex, inherited from somewhere, that I’d never once questioned.

That awareness was the first step.

The second step happened on its own, slowly, just through being there. After a few weeks, I stopped noticing the eccentric people. They were just part of life. People expressing themselves, happy, not bothering anyone. The discomfort faded not through a conscious decision, but through exposure. Through being around it long enough that it stopped being strange.

No single moment I can point to. Just a gradual, quiet shift. And I think that’s actually how most real change works, not one big epiphany, but a slow accumulation of new normal.

I became less judgmental. More tolerant. More aware that the way people lived back home wasn’t the only valid way. Their beliefs weren’t capital-T Truths. They were just one way of seeing things, shaped by one particular place and time.

First zoom out. More of the picture.

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Indonesia, 2016

Six years later, Rosie and I went to Indonesia for our honeymoon. One of the largest Muslim-majority countries in the world.

Remember what I said earlier, about the messages I grew up with. That was the context I was bringing into that trip.

In Borneo, we spent four days with a local guide named Febri. She was, at the time, one of the only female guides on the island. Her father had been a guide, so she’d grown up in the rainforest. She could spot a spider or a crocodile from insane distances, in near darkness. The jungle was just her home.

She also wore a hijab. And I’ll be honest: when I first saw her, some old reflexes kicked in. Things I wasn’t proud of but couldn’t pretend weren’t there.

Four days later, every single one of those reflexes was gone.

Febri was just a young woman with a life she loved and dreams she was building. She was about to get married. She was excited about having kids. She talked about the wildlife and her island with a kind of passion and knowledge I’ve rarely seen in anyone. There was something genuinely beautiful about how connected she was to her world.

Yes, she had different beliefs, different cultural references. Some things that were completely normal for her still feel foreign to me. But I understood, really understood, that those differences didn’t make either of us better or worse. Just different.

I asked a lot of questions. She answered all of them. Four days of conversation that I can still recall in vivid detail, ten years later. Because the differences were exactly what made it so rich.

Another zoom out. More context. More of the picture.

It’s not a destination

I want to be clear about something: I’m not fully “cured.” I still carry beliefs I haven’t shed yet. Some about myself, some about others. There are corners of my thinking I haven’t cleaned out and probably won’t for a long time, maybe ever.

But that’s the point. This isn’t a process with a finish line. It’s just an ongoing expansion, zoom out, see more, understand more, repeat.

All the traveling I’ve done since has only continued that. Without those trips, without the people I met along the way, I’d still be the stubborn, close-minded guy from a 1,500-person village in the south of France. Certain he already knew how the world worked.

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You don’t need a plane ticket

Here’s what I want to say to anyone thinking: “that’s nice Jeremie, but I can’t afford to fly to Australia or Indonesia.”

The flights aren’t the point.

What changed me wasn’t the miles. It was the exposure to people and perspectives I hadn’t encountered before. The discomfort of being in an unfamiliar environment and having to sit with it long enough for it to feel normal.

That can happen in your own city if you’re intentional about it. A different neighborhood. A different community. A conversation with someone whose life looks nothing like yours. The exposure is what matters, not the passport stamp.

And one caveat for those who do travel: going to a resort where 90% of the guests speak your language and the staff are trained to make everything feel familiar, that’s a vacation, not an expansion. Nothing wrong with it, but don’t expect it to zoom you out. You haven’t really left your bubble, you’ve just moved it somewhere warmer.

The real shift comes from contact. From letting something genuinely different in.

That’s true whether you do it by boarding a plane, walking into an unfamiliar room, or simply deciding to have a real conversation with someone who sees the world differently from you. Sometimes that person is a guide in a rainforest. Sometimes it’s a coach asking you questions you’ve never thought to ask yourself.

Either way, the zoom out is available to you.

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J

Meanwhile, here in Bangkok, temperatures are rising from hot to super hot 🥵🤣.

For the 3rd month in a row, I haven’t left the country (or even the city)! The start of the month was slow... then somehow it got super busy!

Every month, I’ll share a more personal look at what’s been going on: where we’ve been, what I’ve been working on, and a few things I’ve discovered or enjoyed along the way. ✨

This isn’t just a travel diary or work recap, it’s a chance to go deeper into the real-life moments behind the posts. Sometimes there are wins, sometimes challenges, but I always try to share something honest, useful, or thought-provoking from what I’ve experienced.

I’ll also include a few of my favorites from the month: books, podcasts, articles, or tools that stood out and might inspire you too.

This post is just for paid subscribers, thank you so much for your support! 💛

I’m keeping these monthly updates behind the paywall for two reasons. First, they’re a lot more personal, it’s a real look into my life, and having it just for paid subscribers makes it feel a bit more protected and private. Second, these take me quite a bit of time to put together. I want them to be complete, thoughtful, and fun, with stories, photos, and things I’ve enjoyed throughout the month. Your support helps me make the time to create something meaningful here. 🙏🏼

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March 1st to March 31st: Thailand 🇹🇭

We started the month by exploring our “backyard” a little more. We’re lucky to live close to one of Bangkok’s most popular landmarks: the Big Buddha.

Rosie heard about a new cafe across the river from it, which offers an amazing view of the statue. So one evening, we jumped on motorbikes and headed over. I wouldn’t recommend the cafe, great location… but that’s about it.

We’ve been to the temple many times, so we simply wandered around the small streets and explored the neighborhood. We stayed until sunset to take some photographs of the sun going down behind the statue.

It’s a very local neighborhood, aside from the temple itself. Not many foreigners explore the backstreets, smaller temples, and markets around it. It was really cool to witness local Thai life - a side of Bangkok not often seen, away from the crazy or glamorous parts of the city... but it’s where I feel most at home, in a way.

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When the young elephant arrives, they don’t start with tricks. First, they put a collar around its neck and peg it to the ground with a rope. The peg is strong enough to hold a baby elephant. It can walk around, but if it pulls, it can’t escape.

After a while, the young elephant understands it’s not strong enough. So it stops pulling. It accepts the situation.

That’s when the training begins.

As the elephant grows, the collar stays on. The peg stays in the ground. And even when it becomes a fully grown adult - one of the most powerful animals on the planet - it never tries to escape.

Not because it can’t.

But because it still believes it can’t.

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I heard this story during a life coaching course I took last year. I don’t know if it’s true - but that doesn’t matter. It stuck with me, and I share it with my own students regularly.

Do you feel sorry for the elephant? I do a little.

What a shame. If only it knew how strong it had become. One pull - one single pull - and it would be free.

But it won’t try. The belief was formed too early, ran too deep, and never got updated.

That’s what conditioning does.

I had my own version of that peg for a long time.

Growing up, I was convinced there was only one way to live a good life: get a degree, find a stable job at a big company, climb the ladder. Get married, buy a house, have kids. That was the plan. That was success. I never questioned it - I just assumed it was the only path available to someone like me.

When Rosie and I graduated, she wanted to travel before settling down. I said no. We had to be responsible. We couldn’t just go off traveling - that was for rich people, not us.

I was a fully grown elephant, completely convinced the peg was still holding me.

It took years - new people, new environments, new experiences - before I finally understood there were other paths. That I could actually live differently. That the rope I thought was holding me down had never really been there.

And once I pulled? Everything changed.

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Now I’ll ask you the same question I ask myself.

Which beliefs did you form early on - in childhood, as a teenager, or even as an adult - that are still quietly running your life today? Beliefs that were real once, but are completely outdated now?

Which pegs are you still not pulling on... even though you absolutely could?

If you feel like your inner-young-elephant needs support finding the peg, reply to this email, I read every message. And if you want to work on it properly, here’s how we can do that together.

Email Me

J

Not fluently, not perfectly - just enough to communicate with locals who don’t speak English. Enough to order food without my phone, to have a basic conversation, to not feel like a complete tourist in the country I now live in.

I have two apps downloaded on my phone. I haven’t opened either of them in weeks. I have YouTube channels saved. Haven’t watched a single video.

I want to get the medal... but I just don’t want to run the race.

And honestly? I’m not about to pretend I’m going to fix that anytime soon. The truth is, I don’t want it enough right now. I can always find English-speaking people here. Google Translate does the job. I know hello and thank you in Thai, and somehow, life goes on just fine.

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I’m writing this not because I have a great success story to share, but because I think most of us can relate to this feeling.

Why We Never Actually Get There

We all have goals. Fitness goals, career goals, relationship goals, personal ones. Big ones, small ones.

But most of them? We never actually get there.

Not because we can’t. Because we don’t want to go through the process of getting there.

We love the destination. We just don’t want to go through the journey to get there.

I see this with myself, with my wife Rosie, with my coaching clients. It’s everywhere.

Getting fit. Meditating. Reading more. Earning more money. Starting a business. Having better relationships. We all want those things, or at least the idea of them. But they all require investing real time and energy. We love the outcome. We just don’t always love the process to get there.

One of the reasons this happens - and I’m sure you can relate - is how big the task feels. To learn Thai, I need to learn a full new alphabet (which is not easy when all the letters look like drawings to me at the moment), understand concepts I’ve never heard of like tones, and get comfortable being terrible for a very long time. When I compare where I am now (hello and thank you, basically) to where I want to be... the gap is so big it’s paralyzing.

So I don’t start.

And honestly? The real reason is simple: I’m not willing to make it a priority. Not with my time, and not financially either - I haven’t signed up for a class or hired a teacher. I’d rather spend that time and money on other things. That’s the truth.

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Why Our Brain Talks Us Out of It

There’s something psychological about this. We’re actually very good at doing things when we have no choice. When our back is against the wall, when the stakes are high. But when they’re not? When we feel like we have time? It’s very easy to procrastinate.

If I went to the doctor tomorrow and they told me “change your diet or you’ll likely have a heart attack next year”… I don’t know about you, but personally I’d change my diet. Fast.

But if my cholesterol is just a little high and I feel fine... I’ll probably keep eating the same way.

Same thing with work. If I was jobless with no money coming in, I’d dedicate hours every day to learning a new skill or finding clients. But if I already have a comfortable job, even one I hate, I’ll probably not do much about it. Because complaining is easier than spending your evenings developing new skills for 3 to 6 months to change careers. I see so many people stuck in that exact situation.

Our brain loves comfort. As long as it feels safe, it will keep sending us signals to stay comfortable. It will tell us: “why would we waste time and energy getting uncomfortable for something we don’t even need?” And we fall for that, every time.

That’s true for fitness goals, career goals, language learning. That’s why New Year’s resolutions don’t last.

Without a strong enough why, our brain will win that fight every time. And we’ll end up on the couch, scrolling our phones, while our goals stay goals.

I know this firsthand, in both directions.

Back in 2010, I moved to Australia for an internship. I barely spoke English. Almost nobody around me spoke French. I had to figure it out just to find an apartment, survive at work, buy groceries. I had no choice. I was so determined that I actively avoided making French friends so I had no way out but to speak English all the time. I struggled for weeks. And I pushed through it anyway - because I had to, and because I knew it was going to be a great investment for my future.

Right now, learning Thai? I don’t have that. I can always fall back on English or Google Translate. The discomfort of not speaking Thai is not painful enough to make me move.

So What Do You Actually Do About It?

I think it comes down to two questions.

1. Do you actually want this, or do you just like the idea of it?

Be honest with yourself. There’s a big difference between genuinely wanting something and just liking the version of yourself who has it.

Because if you don’t want it enough, no productivity hack is going to save you. You’ll just keep downloading apps and not opening them. (Ask me how I know.)

If the answer is yes, you do genuinely want it, then:

2. How can you make the process more enjoyable?

Because if the path to your goal feels like torture, you won’t stay on it for long.

That’s actually why apps like Duolingo work. Instead of sitting in a boring classroom memorizing grammar rules, they gamify the whole thing. Small wins, regular progress, just a few minutes a day. The content is the same, but the experience is different enough that people actually stick with it.

Having accountability partners does something similar. Going through the discomfort with someone else makes it much easier to keep showing up. I’ve written about this in the context of solo entrepreneurs, and the same logic applies here. Honestly, that’s a big part of why people hire me as a coach too. Most of the time they already know what they need to do… they just can’t make themselves do it alone. Having someone in their corner to support them, challenge them, and help them navigate the hard parts makes all the difference.

The goal isn’t to make the process easy. It’s to reduce the friction enough that you actually start, and keep going.

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And if you can’t honestly answer those two questions?

Maybe that goal just isn’t for you right now. And that’s okay.

Not every goal deserves to be chased. Some things look great on paper but don’t actually fit where you are or what you truly want at this point in your life. Letting go of them isn’t failure. It’s just being honest with yourself.

Right now, speaking Thai isn’t a real priority for me. Maybe it will be one day. But at least I’m not lying to myself about it anymore.

Is there a goal or ambition you’ve been holding onto that you don’t actually want enough to do the work for?

J

But before I get to that, I need to rewind a few years.

A club born from an NFT

In 2022, I purchased some NFTs. One of the projects I got involved in was Futera United, a Bangkok football club. The idea was simple: start a club at the lowest level of Thai amateur football and work our way up the leagues, one promotion at a time.

Being a holder gave you access to a private platform where, alongside the staff and other holders, you could actually help run the club. Choosing a logo. Picking the jersey kits. Deciding which players should start. A real-life version of Football Manager, a game I grew up loving.

So since 2022, I’ve been following Futera United’s journey, watching games online and staying engaged with the community.

Two years in the amateur leagues. Then two seasons at the semi-professional level. And this season (2025/2026), after just four years of existence, the club became fully professional, competing at the third tier of Thai football.

Last Saturday was the final home game of the season. It wasn’t an easy year, but the team survived and stayed up. That alone is a fantastic result.

After the game, I walked over to one of our players and asked if I could have his jersey. He kindly said yes.

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The symbol behind this jersey

His name is Phu.

Phu has been with Futera United since day one. Him and the goalkeeper are the only two players still here from the very beginning. Back in 2022, he was a teenager, our wonder kid. Now, he is a starter on a professional football team.

He became a professional footballer.

What was once just a dream for a kid is now his reality.

The journey wasn’t easy. Ups and downs. This season was especially tough for him. It took him nearly half the season to find his level at this new standard of play. But he got there, through hard work and sheer determination.

I don’t know Phu personally. The language barrier makes it difficult to communicate. But I wanted that jersey because of what it represents. It’s a reminder that dreams can become real. That if you work hard enough, believe in yourself, and have the right people around you, the impossible starts to look a lot more possible.

What happened to your dreams?

We all had them as kids. Those big, ridiculous, wonderful dreams.

I wanted to be an architect. Then a paleontologist. Then an astronaut.

At some point along the way, those dreams quietly disappeared. I don’t remember the exact moment, but somewhere between childhood and my teenage years, adults told me to be more realistic. To focus on school. To get a stable job that paid well. Nobody said my dreams were impossible outright, but that’s what was implied.

By the time I was a teenager, the astronaut and the paleontologist were long gone. I just wanted to work in tech because I heard it wasn’t too tiring and paid decently. Not exactly the stuff of childhood imagination.

I’m not blaming anyone. That’s just how it goes for most of us. The world is good at slowly convincing us to lower the bar.

Too many people give up on their dreams and settle for mediocre lives. I say that not to be harsh, but because I believe it, and I think deep down, a lot of people know it’s true about themselves.

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It’s not too late

I stopped dreaming for a long time. Into my twenties, into my thirties.

To be fair, I was still enjoying life. Still achieving things. But the dreams I was chasing weren’t really mine. They were the ones people had mapped out for me.

It took a personal tragedy (you can read about it here) to wake me up to that. Suddenly, the comfortable path I had been walking didn’t feel like safety anymore. It felt like a waste.

So I started dreaming again, but this time for myself.

I dreamed about an unconventional life. No regular job. No mortgage. Seeing as much of this world as I possibly could. It sounded unrealistic to a lot of people around me. It sounded impossible to part of me.

But I worked on it. I worked on my self-limiting beliefs, the fears that had been keeping me small. I got clear on what I actually wanted, built a plan, and eventually, one step at a time, I turned it into reality.

That’s why I live in Bangkok today. That’s why I’m at a professional football game on a Saturday afternoon, going home with a striker’s jersey under my arm.

If you’re reading this and thinking “yeah, cool story, but I’m not 19 anymore, those kinds of dreams don’t apply to me,” I hear you.

I thought the same thing.

But I don’t think the ability to dream ever leaves us. I think it just gets buried under years of practicality, responsibility, and other people’s expectations. Underneath all that, there’s still a version of you that knows what it actually wants.

I call it your inner child. And it doesn’t have to stay buried.

The dreams you reconnect with as an adult might look different from the ones you had at eight years old. They’ll probably be a bit more grounded, a bit more nuanced. But they’re still yours. And you still have the power to pursue them.

It starts with one thing: believing it’s possible.

In a world that can feel pretty heavy right now, I wanted to share this lighthearted story. Because Phu becoming a professional footballer at a club that didn’t exist four years ago is proof that good things still happen.

At the end of this strange, short life, you’re going to die either way. You might as well have gone for it.

I’ll leave you with two questions:

What did you dream about as a kid?

And which of those dreams, or a version of them, could you start moving toward today?

I’d love to read your answers in the comments.

J

I was enrolled in a self-development program near Miami called Gratitude Training. The goal was to shed our self-limiting beliefs, embrace who we are, and show up more fully in our lives. It was one of the most challenging and rewarding things I’ve ever done. I made friends for life.

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During one of the weekends, we walked into a room where chairs were lined up facing a small stage. Just a mic on the floor.

The exercise: get on stage, grab the mic, and answer a single question the room would ask you, over and over again.

“Who are you?”

If people didn’t feel you were really answering - if your words didn’t sound right - anyone could ask again. Any time.

I decided to go up.

Standing there with the mic, staring at 50+ people, I took a breath and started talking.

“I’m Jeremie. I’m a man. I’m a husband. I’m a son. I’m French. I’m caring. I’m kind...”

I kept going. Where I’m from. What I do. What I like.

The question kept coming back.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, I remember thinking: I don’t fucking know.

I walked off that stage more confused than when I got on it.

But something had been lit. A question I had never seriously asked myself before was now lodged in my head - and it’s never really left. That moment set me on a path of introspection and self-discovery that I’m still on today.

Years later, I still can’t answer it.

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So let’s explore it together.

Are we our bodies?

It’s the most obvious answer on the surface - our bodies are what make us physically present in the world. But something about it doesn’t sit right with me. Our bodies carry too much impermanence. I read somewhere that most of our cells are replaced every 7 to 10 years. We change physically throughout our entire lives in ways we don’t control. If what makes us up is constantly shifting... can we really say our body is what makes us us?

I don’t think so.

Are we our brains?

The nerdy, rational part of me really connects with this. Unlike most cells, many of our neurons last a lifetime. Our brain develops as we develop, ages as we age. It stores our memories. Our experiences, choices, and actions physically shape it over time. It’s the center of our awareness, our personality, our thinking.

Does our brain contain our soul? That’s where it gets murky for me. But as the one constant at the core of our physical existence, this theory feels the most plausible.

Are we the things we say about ourselves?

That’s essentially what I was doing on stage. Listing labels. Roles. Adjectives. The bundle of things I associate with myself at any given moment.

But that bundle has shifted enormously throughout my life. What defined me at 20 looks almost nothing like what defines me now. So if what I say about myself keeps changing... what does that mean for who I actually am?

Are we our thoughts and actions?

We often hear things like: “you are not your job” or “it’s not because you did a bad thing that you are a bad person.” I’ve said those things myself, and I believe them.

Our thoughts are incredibly fleeting, they come and go within seconds sometimes. Can something that temporary really be the foundation of who we are? That doesn’t feel right either.

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None of these answers fully hold up. And that’s what I keep coming back to.

Are we our identity - whatever that even means? The sum of our past experiences? A combination of body, mind, and something we loosely call a soul or consciousness?

We’ve solved extraordinarily complex problems as a species. We’ve unlocked scientific mysteries, explored the universe, built things that would look like magic to people 200 years ago.

And yet this question - the most personal one there is, the one every single human being could ask themselves - still has no clear, agreed-upon answer.

Maybe that’s because the answer looks different depending on where you’re standing. Culture, religion, personal belief, lived experience - they all shape how we respond to it. And none of us can really tell another person they’re wrong.

Maybe the answer isn’t even the point. Maybe asking the question is the point, because sitting with it is one of the deepest forms of self-exploration there is.

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I’m not sharing my own conclusion here - deliberately. I don’t want my take to color yours. This isn’t a post where I hand you an answer. It’s an open invitation to explore.

So here’s my question for you:

If you were standing on that stage right now, mic in hand, 50 people staring at you - what’s the first thing you’d say?

Drop it in the comments, or hit reply if you’re reading this by email. I’m super curious to read what you would say 😁

J

Not in a deep, felt way. Not in a way that actually changes how they show up every morning.

And I get it. It’s easy to be caught up in the daily grind, the complaints, the comparisons, the feeling that things aren’t where they should be.

But today I want to shake you a little. Because once you see this clearly, you can’t unsee it. And it changes everything.

The Odds of You Existing

Let’s start with the numbers, because they’re insane.

For the individual you to be alive, an incredible sequence of events had to happen perfectly:

• Your parents meeting: ~1 in 20,000

• Them having a child together: ~1 in 2,000

• The exact sperm + egg combo that made you: ~1 in 400 quadrillion

If you put all that probability into a single coin flip, you’d need to flip heads ~2.6 million times in a row.

That’s how crazy it is that you exist.

And even if we set aside the big math, roughly 1 in 3 pregnancies never makes it to birth. Miscarriages, stillbirths, complications. The fact that you got to breathe for even one day already makes you extraordinarily lucky.

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The Winning Streak That Made You

This one really gets me.

Every single one of your ancestors, going back 4 billion years, survived long enough to reproduce. Not one broke the chain. Through plagues, famines, wars, ice ages, predators - the chain held.

You are the result of an unbroken winning streak across all of life on Earth.

One bad winter. One wrong place at the wrong time. One plague that took out the wrong person. And you don’t exist.

We Are Alone in an Incomprehensibly Large Universe

Take a step back even further.

There are 2 trillion galaxies in the universe, each with hundreds of billions of stars, most with planets. And life as we know it - conscious, self-aware, meaning-seeking life - exists on exactly one of them. So far.

We are made of “space dust,” tiny atoms that somehow organized themselves into something capable of thinking about its own existence. That alone is mind-bending.

And out of 8.7 million species on Earth, you were born as a human being - the most evolved species that has ever lived on this planet. You could have been a fly with a 24-hour lifespan. A cow in a factory farm. A fish.

Instead, you got consciousness. Language. The ability to dream, create, and choose your life.

As far as we know, we are the only species in the entire known universe who can do that.

You Were Also Born at the Best Time in History

I know it doesn’t feel that way when you scroll social media or watch the news. But stay with me.

For 99% of human history, “a good day” meant not starving.

Until the industrial revolution, roughly 200 years ago, all of our focus, energy, and cognitive bandwidth served one single purpose: find food. There was no time to think about purpose, fulfillment, or legacy. Just survival. Hunter-gatherers spent their entire days searching for their next meal. When we settled, it was because we discovered agriculture. Growing food was a revolution.

For the vast majority of human history, food was the meaning of life.

And now? You can have food delivered to your door in 30 minutes. Your ancestors would have considered that magic.

Yet we’re still not satisfied. Still not present. Still not appreciating it.

(And let’s not forget, a lot of people on Earth today are still starving while we throw away mountains of food every single day.)

And You, Specifically, Won Even More Lotteries

If you’re reading this: you speak and read English, which gives you access to the vast majority of the world’s information and opportunities. You have internet. You have enough stability in your life to read a newsletter about personal growth.

You are in a very small percentage of all humans alive on Earth right now.

You have won more lotteries than you realize.

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I Learned This the Hard Way

It took me 29 years to truly understand this. Until I tried to conceive, to create a new life.

Until then, I thought it was just as easy as ordering something on Amazon.

In 2016, we experienced our first miscarriage. In 2017, we found out our baby boy had a very rare and complicated genetic disorder - we made the decision to terminate the pregnancy. In 2019, another miscarriage. In 2020, a missed miscarriage.

We tried 4 times to bring a healthy human life into the world. It didn’t work out.

Because it’s not easy. I saw firsthand how hard life is to create. How fragile it is. How it can be taken before it even starts - even today, at the most advanced point in our civilization.

Those were multiple punches in the face. But they woke me up. I see it clearly now.

I understood, the hard and painful way, how lucky I was to simply be alive and healthy.

So What Are You Doing With It?

We finally have the freedom to actually live, and most people are sleepwalking through it.

You are spending this astronomically rare gift on a job you hate, constantly worrying about what other people think, never satisfied with what you have, and just waiting for “someday” to do anything about it.

You were given a golden opportunity. The universe went through an absurd amount of trouble to get you here.

Are you living like it?

It Doesn’t Have to Stay This Way

I woke up. The hard way - through loss, through grief, through being forced to confront how fragile and precious life actually is.

But you don’t have to wait for a tragedy to shake you awake.

You can decide today to approach your life differently. To stop postponing happiness. To stop living by other people’s scripts. To actually build the life you want, on your terms.

I see it happen constantly with the people I work with. It doesn’t matter your age, your situation, where you’re starting from. When there’s a will, there’s a way. And once you wake up to how precious this life is, you can never go back to sleepwalking through it.

If that resonates with you - if you feel the itch, the discomfort, the sense that there’s more available to you - I’d love to talk.

Let’s have a conversation

Life is too short and too rare to wait.

This month only had 28 days, but it was a busy one here in Bangkok! We didn’t go anywhere else yet. Rosie is still enjoying staying in one place and not living out of a backpack or suitcase 😅

Me however, I have to admit… I’m starting to feel… something. The days and weeks are already starting to blur together, and I’m not a fan of that feeling… More on that later.

Every month, I’ll share a more personal look at what’s been going on: where we’ve been, what I’ve been working on, and a few things I’ve discovered or enjoyed along the way. ✨

This isn’t just a travel diary or work recap, it’s a chance to go deeper into the real-life moments behind the posts. Sometimes there are wins, sometimes challenges, but I always try to share something honest, useful, or thought-provoking from what I’ve experienced.

I’ll also include a few of my favorites from the month: books, podcasts, articles, or tools that stood out and might inspire you too.

This post is just for paid subscribers, thank you so much for your support! 💛

I’m keeping these monthly updates behind the paywall for two reasons. First, they’re a lot more personal, it’s a real look into my life, and having it just for paid subscribers makes it feel a bit more protected and private. Second, these take me quite a bit of time to put together. I want them to be complete, thoughtful, and fun, with stories, photos, and things I’ve enjoyed throughout the month. Your support helps me make the time to create something meaningful here. 🙏🏼

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February 1st to February 28th: Thailand 🇹🇭

That makes it 2 full months back-to-back in the same country and same city!

We finally stopped buying things for the apartment (pretty much). January was pretty intense on that front… so now we can just enjoy our new home, focus on work, and take advantage of this wonderful city.

I’ll put some snaps below of random days and evenings out… it includes: a big dachshund robot, an evening stroll in Lumphini Park, and a private sound bath.

The first weekend of the month was Bangkok Design Week, with plenty of workshops and exhibitions throughout the city. On the 7th, we went to check some of it out.

We started in a nearby neighborhood and walked around a market with local makers. While exploring, we spotted a mural from a street artist we absolutely loved in Miami (Vhils). It was really cool to see his work pop up here!

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Four moments where things didn’t go the way I wanted them to. Where I felt frustrated, annoyed, angry, or just... sad.

And in every single one of them, looking back, I see things differently now.

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Sydney, 2010

I arrived in Australia for a 6-month internship, fresh out of France, with broken English and one week of hostel accommodation booked. The plan was simple: find a flat during that first week.

I found a place I liked. Good location, good price. The landlord said there were more visits scheduled, but I could take my time. I messaged him that evening - excited, relieved - ready to say yes.

Too late. Someone else had said yes 5 minutes before me.

I was furious at myself. How could I not have decided faster?

A few days later, I found another spot. Better location, actually. And about 10 days after moving in, a cute blonde English girl walked through the door to move into the girls’ room.

That girl was Rosie. I married her 5 years later.

If I’d been 5 minutes faster that first time, we would have probably never met.

Aix-en-Provence, 2014

My current work contract was ending. My agency sent me to interview at a startup in Marseille, but the traffic getting there was a nightmare. We showed up an hour late. The interview went okay, but a few days later, I heard they went with someone else.

Fine. The daily commute would have been hell anyway.

Then, a week later, my agency called back. The person they hired didn’t work out. They wanted me.

I remember complaining to Rosie: the commute, the traffic, the uncertainty of a brand new startup... I was so unenthusiastic about it.

I started anyway. Sleepy and grumpy on my first day.

I ended up spending 6+ years there. It became the best professional experience of my life. The co-founders offered me the chance to move to Miami, which completely changed the trajectory of everything. I’m still friends with them to this day.

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France, 2017

This one is harder to write about.

Rosie and I had to make the most painful decision of our lives: we terminated our pregnancy at 6 months. The worst day of my life. I’ve written about it before, I won’t go into all the details again here.

What I know now, looking back:

If that pregnancy had gone as planned... we would not have moved to Miami. We would not have traveled the world for 4 years. We would have settled where we were, on autopilot, and life today would probably look almost exactly like it did in 2017… just with a child (or more by now).

I would not have become the person I am today.

2021 and 2022

After leaving Miami, Rosie and I were finally ready to start traveling full-time. We had a plan.

Then family situations came up. Twice. Things completely outside our control. We made the choice to be there, to delay our travels, to put our plans on hold - twice. It also cost us a significant amount of money.

Was I frustrated? Absolutely.

It’s during those months of being “stuck” that the opportunity to build my online yoga school appeared. And because I wasn’t on the road bouncing between cities, I could give it my full attention. I launched it properly.

The school is now closed, but it was a pivotal moment in my entrepreneurial journey. It gave me confidence, experience, and proof that I could build something from scratch. Without those delays, I’m not sure I would have done it at all.

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What All of This Has in Common

In every one of these moments, my first reaction was negative. Frustration. Sadness. Anger. Resentment.

Because I had expectations. And reality refused to match them.

Stoicism has a clear answer for this. Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, Seneca - they all said it differently, but the message is the same: you do not control what happens to you. You only control how you respond.

Other people’s actions, external events, things that have already happened - none of that is within your control right now. Fighting against it doesn’t change it. It just makes you suffer more.

And yet, what my life has shown me goes a step further than acceptance.

I’m not saying everything happens for a reason in some neat, cosmic way. I don’t know that. What I know is that even that one tragic moment led somewhere I couldn’t have imagined at the time.

Maybe you call it the universe. Maybe God. Maybe coincidence. I don’t have the answer, and honestly, I don’t think it matters.

What matters is the posture. Letting go of what isn’t yours to control, and staying open to what comes next.

I just know that every time I’ve let go, really let go, something better showed up. And that’s enough for me.

Has there been a moment in your life where something going “wrong” actually led somewhere better? I’d love to hear it, hit reply and tell me.

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Sure, other people might get swayed by their friends, but not me. I made my own choices. I was my own person.

Turns out I was full of shit.

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I grew up in an environment where racist and homophobic comments were casual dinner table conversation. For years, I absorbed those beliefs without question - because everyone around me talked that way. It took leaving that environment and meeting the very people I’d been judging before I realized how ignorant I’d been.

That’s the thing about influence, it’s invisible until you step outside of it.

How My Environment Shaped Me (Without Me Realizing It)

I can see it so clearly now - how the people around me molded my beliefs, habits, and choices in ways I didn’t recognize at the time.

The racism and homophobia: When you hear adults casually making horrible comments about people with different skin colors, religions, or sexual orientations, you absorb it. Those beliefs became my beliefs for a long time. It wasn’t until I left that environment and actually met the people I’d been taught to judge that I realized how ignorant and stupid I was.

Nelson Mandela said it perfectly:

“No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.”

The drinking culture: In France, alcohol is just normal. It’s cultural. There’s always been a bottle of red wine at the table during meals. We always have an aperitif before dinner. A beer while watching sports. For years, this felt as natural as breathing.

Catching up with friends meant going to the pub for drinks. Having someone over for dinner meant a few drinks beforehand, wine during the meal, and digestifs after. Going out meant getting pissed, what’s the point otherwise?

And we never just drank. There was always food: nuts, saucisson, ham, olives, cheese, bread. Delicious, but not exactly health food.

When we moved to Miami, the people we met barely drank, and most were incredibly health-conscious. Without the social pressure, it’s crazy how quickly I adjusted. These days, I drink maybe 4 or 5 times a year - that used to be per week in France. And when I do drink now, it’s because I choose to, not because I feel pressure to look cool.

The health shift: In Miami, my friends were all pretty healthy. So I didn’t just clean up my diet, I got curious about other aspects of health too. Moving my body, taking care of it, mental health practices. That’s when I started meditating, reading self-development books, all that stuff.

The entrepreneurship bug: Guess what environment I needed to get interested in entrepreneurship? You got it: being surrounded by entrepreneurs. I coul√d see firsthand how rewarding it was for them and how they designed their lifestyle around their work instead of the other way around. It inspired me to do the same.

I wasn’t a victim of these influences, I had choices. But let’s be real: social pressure and environment are powerful forces. And most of us aren’t even aware of how much they’re shaping us.

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This Isn’t Just Me, It’s Science

We massively underestimate how much the people around us shape our lives. And I’m not talking about some woo-woo “energy” stuff - I’m talking about cold, hard data.

Health: A Harvard Medical School study found that when someone becomes obese, their friend’s chances of becoming obese increase by 57%. Their siblings? 40%. Their spouse? 37%. But their neighbor (if not part of their social network)? Zero effect. The behavior spreads through relationships, not proximity.

On the flip side, research from the National Institutes of Health shows that people who exercise with a friend are 45% more likely to report good mental health and have a higher likelihood of meeting physical activity guidelines.

Drinking: Students with friends who drink weekly are up to 7 times more likely to drink weekly themselves. Over 85% of people have experienced peer pressure to drink, and 60% of young adults report social pressure to consume alcohol.

Beliefs and values: Friends significantly shape our attitudes through social validation and peer influence. We tend to adopt the values of our inner circle, a phenomenon known as social contagion, which can either reinforce positive growth or encourage negative habits.

This isn’t just correlation. It’s cause and effect. Your friends influence your physical health, mental health, beliefs, values, and habits. Spend enough time with people who have poor health habits and questionable values, and it will affect you. It will shape your thoughts. Your thoughts shape your actions. Your actions become your habits.

Why Are Your Friends Your Friends?

Think about this for a minute:

Why are you spending time with the people around you? Did you actually choose them for who they are... or did you choose them because it was easy?

Most people’s friends fall into three buckets:

• Friends from youth/school

• Neighbors

• People they work with

Maybe a fourth bucket: people from hobby-related activities (gym, sports, music events, whatever).

These are “low-hanging fruit” friends. They were already there, easy to grab, required minimal effort. You went to the same school, worked at the same place, lived nearby - so you became friends.

But is convenience a good enough reason to build your inner circle?

There’s very little introspection in those friendships. No real thought about shared interests, values, or beliefs. No intentionality.

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What to Do About It

If who we spend time with matters this much, what should we actually do about it?

Step 1: Assess Your Current Circle

For each friend in your life, ask yourself:

• Do I feel drained or energized after spending time with them?

• What’s one word that defines our relationship?

• Why did we connect in the first place?

• What do we share right now: beliefs, interests, values?

• If we were meeting today for the first time, would we become friends again?

Be honest with yourself. Really honest.

Step 2: Don’t Be Afraid to Move On

The uncomfortable truth: we struggle to move on from friendships.

But let’s be real, we can be best friends with someone at one point in life and grow apart later. We all change. I did. You did. They did.

The “old us” might have been super compatible, but the new versions might not be anymore. And that’s okay.

It’s fine to change. It’s encouraged, even. It’s okay to grow apart. It doesn’t make you or them bad people, just different.

If necessary, move on. Sometimes that means “I’ll never see them again.” But sometimes it just means putting boundaries in place, seeing each other a few times a year instead of weekly.

Once I became aware of all this, I didn’t hesitate, I did what was best for me. I put physical distance between myself and certain people in France by moving and traveling. I let those relationships fade naturally. With people I couldn’t distance myself from - like family - I decided to spend less time with them and keep conversations surface-level, avoiding topics that could create tension.

It might sound selfish, but prioritizing your growth and wellbeing isn’t selfish, it’s necessary.

Step 3: Be Intentional About Building New Friendships

Building friendships as an adult is hard. It’s an investment of time and energy.

But just like romantic relationships, be mindful about where and how you connect with people. You probably wouldn’t look for your long-term partner, the love of your life, at a strip club (and if you would, no judgment) - so maybe don’t expect to find your healthy, wise, spiritual friend at the local dive bar.

What does it mean to be intentional about making friends?

Ask yourself what you want from friendship and what you have to offer. What are your non-negotiables? Based on that, ask yourself where you’re most likely to meet people with those qualities and values.

We tend to level up or down to match the people we spend time with. Spend time with people doing less than you, and you’ll drift backward. Spend time with people ahead of you, and you’ll get pulled forward. It’s not about judging anyone, it’s about recognizing that proximity shapes trajectory. If you want to grow, surround yourself with people who are already where you want to be.

Then put yourself out there, in those environments. Invest time and energy. Don’t settle for the first person who shows up.

You can also be strategic about this. And no, I don’t mean taking advantage of people, I mean being smart.

If you want to get into business or entrepreneurship, try to connect with people already doing it. If you want to get fit and build better health habits, find friends at the gym instead of the pub. If you want to get better with finances, maybe spend less time with the friend who lives life on a credit card.

Your environment shapes you. Your friends influence you. You might as well design that influence intentionally.

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Final Thought

I’m not saying you need to dump all your old friends and start fresh (though if that’s what you need, go for it).

What I am saying is this: pay attention to who you’re spending time with. Notice how they make you feel. Notice what behaviors, beliefs, and habits you’re absorbing from them.

And if you realize your circle isn’t serving the life you’re trying to build?

Change it.

The quickest way to change your life is to change your inner circle.

Fair point.

This system was established long before any of us were born. We didn’t vote for it... but somehow we all got enrolled into it anyway.

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The Reality (Whether We Like It or Not)

Let’s unpack a few things.

We live in a world where we need to pay for things. Being 100% self-sustainable is incredibly hard in our current world. It’s totally impossible and unrealistic for the majority of us. Yes, we can still trade and exchange things... but the opportunities are limited and can’t offer everything we want.

So we have expenses. And to pay them, we need money.

How do we earn money? We could steal it, I guess, but the ethical and accepted way to earn money is to work.

We work to earn enough to pay for our expenses and meet our needs.

Now that we agree on this basic principle, let’s talk about being financially free.

What Financial Freedom Actually Means

I was watching a podcast with Ali Abdaal the other day, and he gave a definition of financial freedom that finally made it click for me.

I’ve used the term “financial freedom” for years. But if you had asked me to define it before this podcast, I would’ve said something vague like “making and having enough money to pay for the lifestyle I want without having to worry or count dollars.”

Ali’s answer was much more accurate:

Reaching real financial freedom is when your passive income covers your expenses.

Simple. Clear. And the key word here is passive income. Otherwise, you’re not really free.

So how do you generate passive income? You need assets.

Assets can be:

• Financial assets - stocks, bonds, investments earning you monthly interest or dividends

• Physical assets - real estate you’re renting out, art, other tangible investments

• Business assets - a business earning you money without requiring your active presence (you created something once and automated or delegated it), royalties from a book you wrote, AdSense money from a YouTube channel

If those earnings cover your expenses... you’re good. No need to work and trade your time or knowledge for money anymore. Congrats.

From there, your lifestyle depends on the extra you have. If your passive income just covers your expenses with nothing left over, you might choose to live a simple life. If you make more than you spend, you can treat yourself however you please.

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The Catch-22

Okay, so now we know how to reach financial freedom! We need passive income, and therefore we need assets.

But wait. How do I get those assets?

Good question... seems like a catch-22, right?

There are only three ways:

1. Inherit them - If you’re lucky, you might inherit your assets. No effort required.

2. Buy them - Purchase an asset like a house and rent it out

3. Build them - Build an app, write a book, create a company

For the majority of us, buying is the most accessible option. But how do you buy an asset? With money. How do you get that money? With a job.

Back to square one 😅

This is why reaching financial freedom is hard as fuck, and only a few achieve it.

The wealthy already have the assets and just pass them down. Easy for them.

If you don’t have generational wealth or starting capital, you can rely on luck (play the lottery) or bet on yourself and build something. We’ve seen people build an audience and monetize it, publish a successful book, build an empire one video at a time (look at MrBeast), or create successful companies.

But that’s still only a minority of people. The majority don’t have the skills, knowledge, ambition, courage, or energy to build something like this.

That’s why most people just work.

The Actual Path Forward

The key is to work and be clever about your finances.

To get the asset, you need extra cash. Money left over after your expenses each month that you can invest in stocks or save for a property down payment.

To have more extra cash, there are two solutions:

1. Reduce Your Expenses

You can only reduce your expenses so much... but don’t underestimate this. Most people in our society buy dumb shit every day even if they can’t afford it. Be humble. Don’t try to keep up with the Joneses.

Ask yourself before buying something if you really need it. Like, really need it.

Moving cities or countries can have a big impact too. In Miami, my rent alone was $1,800 a month. Once we added everything else, we were spending about $3,000 a month on basics. When I decided to quit my job and build my business, we didn’t pick traveling around the world just for travel’s sake. It was also because traveling to certain parts of the world would massively reduce our expenses - making our savings last longer than if we were just living a regular life in our home countries.

By traveling, we actually reduced our expenses. On average, we spent $1,800 a month while traveling - less than just my Miami rent. That’s one of the reasons we didn’t have to tap into our savings. Even though our new business made little money at first, it was enough to cover our needs.

Living in Bangkok now? Still costs me less (everything included) than just my rent in Miami.

2. Increase Your Income

Reducing expenses is capped. The best way to have extra cash to get an asset is to increase your income.

There’s virtually no cap to how much money you can earn. And there are many ways to do it... ask for a raise, get a better job or switch companies. However, there’s only so much you can do here. Your employer probably won’t give you the 20% increase you ask for 😆

The less capped way to make money is by starting a business. Here, with the right product, the right market, and a real solution to a real problem, you can potentially make unlimited amounts of money.

It won’t be easy... but it’s a wide range. Building a six-figure business can already provide a nice cushion of extra cash which will get you assets quickly.

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My Personal Journey

I’ll be honest with you, I’m fairly early on this journey myself.

Like most of us, I wasn’t educated about the importance of investing when I was young. This is something I started learning about in my 30s by reading books and watching podcasts.

At the moment, Rosie and I use our savings to build our long-term wealth by investing in the S&P 500. We’re not optimizing for monthly income right now (like dividend stocks would). I personally like to keep my assets as liquid as possible because you never know what can happen in life. I’d rather invest in stocks than real estate, it can take months to sell a house if you need the cash quickly.

For now, we invest for the future, and I’m focused on building a business that allows me to increase my income. More income means a bigger “extra cash” pile to invest.

Eventually, I’d like to diversify assets to balance between income now (dividends) and long-term growth.

Here’s the thing though, I’m not obsessed with full financial freedom. I’m not the type of person who would sit around doing nothing. I’d be happy with partial freedom.

Why? Because I don’t want to sacrifice my time now working 80-hour weeks to make as much money as possible but not enjoy life, postponing happiness to a later time that’s not even guaranteed. It’s a personal balance.

The Real Investment

Now that we understand what financial freedom truly is and what it takes to get it... do you still want to reach it?

If so, here’s my advice: Invest.

Yes, invest your money from the start. I think it’s a great habit and skill to develop. I wish I had understood the power of investing and compounding over the years earlier. If you’re 20 years old reading this right now, start now. You won’t regret it.

But here’s what I really want you to hear: invest in yourself.

Why? Because as you’ve seen, to get assets, you need to either build them or buy them. To build them, you need skills. To buy them, you need extra cash... and the best way to get extra cash is to increase your income. And for that, you need skills - either for a high-paying job or to start your own business.

Investing in yourself - learning, getting educated - is the single best thing you can do to become financially free.

It doesn’t require capital to get started. We’re lucky to live in a time where information is widely available for free. Just time, dedication, energy, and focus. Nothing else.

I’ve invested heavily in my own growth. Financially, by joining courses, self-development programs, and hiring coaches. Time and energy-wise, by choosing how I spend my time. I’m intentional about what I do when I’m not working. I do my best to read as many educational books as fiction books. I try to watch more educational content than entertainment.

One of the best investments I ever made? Hiring a business coach in 2019. He was a friend who was just starting his coaching program, so Rosie and I got in early at $1,500. Back then, that felt like a LOT of money. Looking back, it was a bargain - worth many times that. I learned how to build an offer, how to run a sales call, and so many other foundational skills. I’ve paid that investment back many times over by applying what I learned.

I also went through a phase where I was ruthless about my content consumption. For a while, I didn’t watch or read anything apart from business content. I’m more balanced now, but that focused learning period was crucial.

Always learning. And I use what I learn in my own business, for myself, and through the support I provide to my clients.

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The Hard Truth

But let me be real with you about what this actually looks like.

It will not happen overnight. This is a process. A long one. It will be hard.

Why? If it was easy, everyone would be financially free.

If you want something that only a tiny percentage of the population has, expect it to be hard. But that’s okay. Hard is good. We learn from doing hard things.

I know what you’re thinking: “But I don’t have time.”

I don’t believe in “I don’t have time.” Time won’t magically appear. You’re going to have to find it. Make it. Make it a priority.

Ditch watching your evening movie and instead learn or build for 2 hours. Wake up 30 minutes earlier. Take a shorter lunch break and use the spare time.

If you think you don’t have time because “you’re so busy,” check your screen time on your phone. Look at how many hours you waste scrolling. Then be honest with yourself.

The best time to start was when you earned your first dollar. The second-best time is today.

Even Partial Freedom is Worth It

Even if you don’t reach full financial freedom, investing in yourself will never be a waste.

If you get 50% of the way there, good on you. You can work part-time.

And even if you don’t get there financially, you’ll have bettered yourself throughout your life. The impact of that on your life and the ones around you cannot be neglected, even if it’s invisible and not financial.

Oh, and one more thing: be careful who you listen to.

Don’t take financial advice from someone who’s broke. Don’t take business advice from someone who’s never had the courage to try.

Most people - especially family, friends, and neighbors - have bad advice. They mean well, but they’re speaking from their own fears and limitations, not from experience.

Listen to people who’ve actually done what you want to do.

Ready to start moving toward financial freedom, even if it’s just partial?

Start today. Be honest about where your time actually goes. Invest in yourself first.

The system might not be perfect, but it’s the one we’ve got. We can either complain about it or learn to win within it.

I’m choosing to win.

What about you? Where are you on this journey toward financial freedom?

If you want to take this discussion further or you’re seeking some support on your path, shoot me an email. I’m always happy to brainstorm and explore what’s possible for you.

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J

I’ve been to 30 countries in my lifetime. During the past four years of full-time travel, I visited 18 of them. That might not sound like much when you remember there are roughly 200 countries in the world. But a quick Google search reminded me that only 1-3% of the global population gets to visit 30 countries in their lifetime. I hit that milestone by age 38.

I’m saying this because social media makes it seem like everyone is traveling everywhere all the time. Instagram and YouTube are filled with digital nomads hopping from Bali to Barcelona to Buenos Aires. But the reality is, full-time travel is still something only a tiny fraction of people get to experience.

I was lucky enough to do it. Lucky to be healthy, to have savings, to have a partner willing to take the leap with me. And I’m deeply grateful for all of it.

But here’s the thing: this experience gave me way more than passport stamps and photographs.

It changed me. Taught me things about myself - some great, some less comfortable to admit. Developed skills I didn’t expect to need. Shattered illusions I didn’t know I was carrying.

This is my attempt to reflect on what four years of full-time travel actually taught me, now that this chapter is closing.

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What I Was Running Toward

When Rosie and I made the decision to leave Miami and travel full-time in 2020, I wasn’t running away from a bad life. Far from it. I was doing well. Comfortable. Safe.

But comfortable had become boring. Days and weeks blurred together in an endless loop. Same routines, same patterns, same hamster wheel turning underneath me.

I had done enough inner work to know that this couldn’t be it. That the point of life wasn’t to work, repeat the same weeks on autopilot, and wait until 65 to finally live. That seemed like a deeply unmemorable way to spend the one life I get.

We were in our 30s. No kids. Healthy. We had savings. It felt like now or never.

What I was chasing was freedom. Freedom to be where I wanted, when I wanted. To work on my own terms. To talk to clients on my schedule. To actually live and experience life to the fullest while creating unforgettable memories along the way.

And I did it.

I lived. I experienced. I felt.

There’s absolutely no way I could regret this decision.

The Skills Nobody Talks About

We didn’t travel to “collect countries” like Pokémon. We went slowly, stayed in places for weeks or months at a time, really settled into the rhythm of each location.

But even traveling this way, moving constantly for four years taught me some unexpected skills.

I became ridiculously adaptable.

I’m a control freak. Ask Rosie, she’ll confirm this immediately. I love being in control, need it in some ways.

But traveling has a way of reminding you that you don’t actually control much. Especially when you’re traveling on a budget.

You’re at the mercy of transportation companies running on “local time.” Weather that doesn’t care about your plans. Visa rules that change without warning. Available accommodations. Wifi quality. Banking systems that don’t make sense.

When your environment changes constantly, you’re dealing with so many moving parts that things just cannot go according to plan. It’s not a question of if something will go sideways, it’s when.

Nothing terrible ever happened to us. But there were constant inconveniences, small frustrations, unexpected changes.

And when you have little to no influence over what’s happening, the only thing you can control is your reaction. How you adapt. How you adjust. How you keep moving forward despite the chaos.

I learned to go with the flow in ways that would’ve been impossible for me before.

I got really good at settling quickly.

My brain and nervous system learned to adapt to new environments almost instantly. I could walk into a new accommodation, unpack my packing cubes, set up a little workspace, and boom - I was home again.

I didn’t need days to adjust. I didn’t need to “get comfortable” before I could be productive or present.

This is an underrated strength that translates directly to business. Whether you’re starting a new job and need to get up to speed fast, or you’re an entrepreneur diving into a new project - the ability to settle quickly and operate effectively in unfamiliar territory is incredibly valuable.

I became a decision-making machine.

Most people don’t realize how much work and time it takes to travel full-time.

Planning a two-week vacation once a year can feel exhausting. Now imagine doing that 52 times a year, non-stop.

Accommodations. Transportation between cities. Visas. SIM cards. Currencies. Health insurance. There’s always something to research, compare, book, coordinate.

I spent hours browsing Airbnb and Booking.com. Hours reading blog posts trying to figure out how to get from Point A to Point B without spending a fortune. Rosie spent hours on YouTube and Instagram looking for things to do, tours to book, places to see.

It never stopped. There was no break from it.

It was time-consuming and mentally draining.

But it’s a skill I developed over time. At this point, it wouldn’t scare me to become a travel planner tomorrow if I had to. I know I can handle the complexity. I know the tricks.

(And honestly, it’s probably more fun spending someone else’s money.)

I learned to be okay with very little.

When you have to carry all your stuff on your shoulders - literally, not figuratively - you realize very quickly what actually matters.

I learned to detach from material possessions. They’re just tools. They can all be replaced.

When you travel, things break. Things get lost. Things get left behind in random guesthouses in countries you’ll never return to.

That’s just what happens. You replace what you need and move on. Getting upset won’t help or bring anything back.

We traveled on a budget. We didn’t book fancy accommodations. Our non-negotiables were: private room (no dorms), quiet, good internet, safe area.

Sometimes things worked out great.

Other times, you end up with a massive cockroach in your bed at 2am. (Ask Rosie, she still remembers that one vividly.)

When you’re moving constantly and can’t afford luxury, there will be surprises. Discomfort. Long, uncomfortable journeys. Rock-hard beds. Places you don’t particularly like but you’re stuck in for another week.

I learned to be okay being uncomfortable. And most of the time, it really was okay.

I always reminded myself that these things don’t matter in the grand scheme of life.

I realized I’m happy with very little.

Rosie always jokes: “You could live in a shithole and be fine.”

She’s not entirely wrong.

I’ve learned to separate my happiness from the material things around me. As long as I’m healthy, and the people I love are healthy - everything else is negotiable.

Yes, a nicer bed would be nicer. A better kitchen, a prettier view - sure, all of that would be nicer.

But those things aren’t reasons to be unhappy. They’re not reasons to ruin my day.

I put myself in these situations. These are proper first-world problems.

I’m just grateful to have a bed, a shelter, and food every day.

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When the Environment Broke Me

There’s one country that really got under my skin during our journey. One place that pushed me past my limits in ways I didn’t expect.

India.

Let me be clear: this isn’t a judgment on Indian people or their culture. This is just my honest experience of what I saw, observed, and how it affected me.

We went to northern India for six weeks. It was four weeks too long.

We had everything pre-booked, so we stuck to our plans even though we weren’t enjoying it. We didn’t want to lose the money. That was a mistake - and a lesson - because we were both pretty miserable there.

India is the strangest country I’ve ever been to. Maybe the most beautiful, some of my favorite photographs came from there. The food was incredible, hands down my favorite cuisine from all the countries we visited. In private settings, Indian people were lovely. We had wonderful conversations with our hosts.

But in the streets? Chaos. Carnage.

Every single one of my buttons was being pushed constantly. My senses were overstimulated non-stop.

The main issue was dealing with people in public spaces. We couldn’t visit anywhere without being asked hundreds of times to take photos. It’s fun two or three times - but at some point, it gets exhausting when you can’t enjoy the sights anymore because you’ve become the attraction.

Constant staring. Aggressive eye contact that felt invasive.

Everywhere we went, it felt like a “me first” mentality. Which doesn’t work in the most populated country in the world. It’s not sustainable when everyone operates that way.

All of this turned me into... honestly, a bit of a dick.

I was rude. Selfish in response to what felt like selfishness directed at me. Impolite. I told people to fuck off when they wouldn’t stop what felt like harassment.

It was weird seeing myself change in real time.

For the last ten days, we basically stopped going out. We just waited to leave.

This is one of the very few times the environment had a real, noticeable impact on my behavior. Even Rosie pointed it out, and she knows me better than anyone.

What triggered me wasn’t just discomfort. It was that my personal space was being invaded constantly. People coming too close. Always demanding attention. Tuk-tuks reversing into me on the street.

My bubble wasn’t protected anymore.

I felt fine in our accommodations or in quiet places. But the moment things got busy, people invaded my safe space in ways that didn’t happen anywhere else we’d been.

It was scary watching myself react this way. I was aware of it happening. I could see myself getting dysregulated, my buttons being pressed, and I just... flipped. Immediately. I couldn’t help it.

It’s a strange experience, seeing yourself be affected and changed in real time, knowing it’s happening but being unable to stop it.

What I Learned About Myself (That I Wasn’t Expecting)

Four years of constant movement, new environments, and minimal external structure revealed some truths about who I actually am.

Some of them were surprising. Some were uncomfortable.

I am a lone wolf.

I know a lot of digital nomads talk about how lonely full-time travel can be. And I’m sure it is, for them.

Obviously, I didn’t do this alone. I shared the entire adventure with Rosie. But even with her by my side, I never felt like I needed to meet other people.

I actually had to force myself to be intentional about talking to people, making small talk, being social. Because left to my own devices, I could easily go weeks doing my own thing without interacting with anyone outside of Rosie.

I think I’ve always been this way. Even as a kid, I spent a lot of time alone - playing in my house, cycling through nature by myself. I wasn’t out with the other kids my age much.

But this experience reminded me of it. Clarified it.

I don’t need to physically see my friends or family. I don’t need to hang out with people every weekend. I’m happy doing my thing on my own.

I didn’t miss people.

This is going to sound bad, but it’s the truth: I didn’t really miss my family or friends.

I’m happy staying in touch online. Texting. Video calls. It doesn’t mean I don’t care about them or love them. I absolutely do.

But I don’t need physical presence.

It’s interesting because most people would describe me as an extrovert, and I’d agree. I can be a social butterfly when I want to be.

But I can also easily spend a week in “my cave” not talking to anyone in real life and be completely content.

I genuinely like spending time with myself.

This might seem obvious given everything I just said, but it’s worth stating clearly: I enjoy my own company.

I don’t get bored being alone. I don’t feel lonely in solitude.

I’m comfortable in my own head, with my own thoughts, doing my own thing.

That’s a gift, and traveling full-time helped me recognize it as one.

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What Traveling Didn’t Fix

Here’s something people don’t talk about enough: traveling doesn’t solve your problems.

I’m still the same person I was when I left Miami.

Maybe more expanded. More aware. But fundamentally the same.

I still like being in control. I still like being right about things. Those shortcomings didn’t disappear just because I changed locations every few weeks.

I didn’t run away from the trauma of losing a child. That grief is still present. I still use it as a driver, honestly, as a reminder to live life to the fullest because I’m lucky to be alive.

But the loss itself? Still there. Still real. Still painful when it surfaces.

Traveling doesn’t fix people’s problems like it does in movies or books.

The idea that you can “find yourself” by going somewhere else is mostly bullshit.

You take yourself with you wherever you go. Your patterns. Your wounds. Your tendencies.

What travel can do is give you space to see those things more clearly. To bump up against your edges. To notice what comes up when the familiar structures are stripped away.

But the work of actually dealing with those things? That’s still on you.

What I’m Taking With Me

So here I am. Four years later. Settled in Bangkok with Rosie and our stuffed dog Siam.

This chapter is closing - not because I wanted it to end, but because Rosie needed stability and I love her more than I love traveling. We compromised. We found a city we both love, where we both believe we can thrive and have the quality of life that matters to us.

And honestly? I’m seeing this as an opportunity.

Now I have time to focus on my business without the constant distraction of planning the next move. I have time to write this newsletter. No more excuses.

But more than that - here’s what I’m actually taking with me from these four years:

Proof that I can design life on my own terms.

I had a crazy dream. A completely unconventional idea that most people would’ve talked themselves out of: quit everything, leave the comfortable life behind, and travel the world full-time.

And I actually did it.

Not only did I do it, it was awesome.

I deconstructed the script I’d been handed about how life is “supposed” to look. I rebuilt it my way. I proved to myself that it’s possible to live differently, to question the narrative, to choose discomfort over regret.

That freedom isn’t just location-based anymore. It’s a mindset. A framework I can apply to anything: my business, my relationships, my decisions.

I know now that conforming isn’t the only option. The drift of society is strong, the current pulls hard toward the “normal” path. But you can swim against it. It takes work. It takes courage. It takes being willing to look weird to people who don’t get it.

But it’s absolutely possible.

Permission to keep choosing differently.

I gave myself permission to live unconventionally once, and it worked.

That permission doesn’t expire just because I’m settling down in one place now.

I’m taking that courage, that willingness to question everything, that ability to prioritize living over waiting - into this next chapter.

The location changed. The daily rhythms will change.

But the approach to life? That stays the same.

I don’t want to wait until I’m 65 to finally live. I want to live every single day, during my prime years, while I’m healthy and capable and present.

I had this crazy idea. This dream that seemed unrealistic.

And I went for it.

So here’s what I want to leave you with:

Give yourself permission to dream. And then give yourself permission to actually execute on those dreams.

Don’t be one of those people who says “I wish I had tried.”

Try it. Go for it.

The script you’ve been handed - about how life should look, what success means, when you’re allowed to enjoy yourself - it’s not the only way.

You can rewrite it.

You can jump into the driver’s seat of your own life, set up your own roadmap, and start exploring.

It takes work to go against the tide. The drift of society is strong, and swimming against it is exhausting sometimes.

But I promise you, it’s worth it.

I’m living proof that it’s possible. That a regular person, not born rich, not exceptionally talented, can be part of the 1% who gets to experience something extraordinary.

Not because I’m special.

But because I gave myself permission to want something different, and then I did the work to make it happen.

You can too.

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If you want to see just how much logistical chaos went into making this dream a reality, check out my post ‘146 Beds in 4 Years: The Side of Digital Nomad Life Nobody Shows You’ where I break down the actual numbers behind four years of constant movement.

This is my first Behind The Posts newsletter I’m sending as a not-anymore Digital Nomad! Which makes me what… a Digital Sedentary 🤷‍♂️?

Every month, I’ll share a more personal look at what’s been going on: where we’ve been, what I’ve been working on, and a few things I’ve discovered or enjoyed along the way. ✨

This isn’t just a travel diary or work recap, it’s a chance to go deeper into the real-life moments behind the posts. Sometimes there are wins, sometimes challenges, but I always try to share something honest, useful, or thought-provoking from what I’ve experienced.

I’ll also include a few of my favorites from the month: books, podcasts, articles, or tools that stood out and might inspire you too.

This post is just for paid subscribers, thank you so much for your support! 💛

I’m keeping these monthly updates behind the paywall for two reasons. First, they’re a lot more personal, it’s a real look into my life, and having it just for paid subscribers makes it feel a bit more protected and private. Second, these take me quite a bit of time to put together. I want them to be complete, thoughtful, and fun, with stories, photos, and things I’ve enjoyed throughout the month. Your support helps me make the time to create something meaningful here. 🙏🏼

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January 1st to January 31st: Thailand 🇹🇭

It’s been a while since I spent an entire month in a single country 😅

I’m curious to see how these posts evolve this year now that I have more of a regular life.

We had a relaxing day on January 1st.

On January 2nd, I went to get a DEXA scan - a quick, non-invasive test that gives you information on your body: bone density, muscle mass, fat, etc. I did this because for the first time in a while, I’ll have uninterrupted gym access and more control over my diet. The nerd in me was curious to get baseline data, then check again in a year to see the changes from regular workouts.

I went to a private clinic in Bangkok… it looked like a luxury hotel. The place was stunning, the staff was incredible. I felt like a king.

What was supposed to be “it’ll be fun to get data” turned into “wow I’m glad I did it”. I’ll keep it short… my muscle mass and bone density are super low. To the point where, with no changes to my lifestyle, I could end up with osteoporosis and other nasty stuff when I get older.

The doctor told me: go lift some weights, pay attention to your nutrition… and come back in 12 months!

Ok doc 👌

I got home and spent hours on Claude (my favorite AI assistant) creating a plan of action for 2026. Now I go to the gym 4 times a week minimum and eat like a monster to grow those muscles! I had the intention to look after my body anyway… but now it’s a necessity. Future-me will hopefully thank me for that!

On January 4th, we signed our rental contract and moved in the next day 🥳. We’ll be in our new home for at least 18 months (probably longer).

The next 2 weeks felt like chaos to me.

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They want more money, more freedom, more independence so they can do more of what they want.

And in those cases, what I often see proposed as the solution to all their problems is: “I might start my own business” - like it’s the easiest and simplest way to gain control over their life.

I understand the intention and the reasoning. I really do.

But after having done this for over four years now, I’m not sure this is the right solution for 99% of people. I’d even say that for most of them, it would just make things worse.

Don’t get me wrong - for the RIGHT person with the RIGHT reasons, it can be life-changing. But most people aren’t that person.

Here’s what nobody tells you: entrepreneurship is not the easy way out.

And I’m writing this as someone who’s been in the trenches, made the leap, and is still figuring it out.

So let me be clear about something: I’m not anti-entrepreneurship. I did it myself, and I’m still doing it. But I want you to understand what you’re really signing up for.

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Why I Did It

Let me start with my story, because understanding why someone jumps into entrepreneurship matters.

In 2021, I had what most people would consider a dream setup. I was living across the street from the beach in Miami, making a decent salary that covered our expenses and more (Rosie didn’t have to work). I had the full trust of my employers. I was working remotely from home in a different country while they were all in France, doing my own hours as long as I was delivering.

I had it good. I had a lot of freedom already.

But here’s what nobody saw: I was bored out of my mind. Every day was the same, blending into the next. I had been with the company for six and a half years, but for the past three or four years, the work was identical - no novelty, not much learning, just rinse and repeat. I didn’t feel challenged. I didn’t feel like I was growing.

I believe that when you don’t grow, you actually regress.

Plus, I had this itch - this burning desire to start something while traveling the world. I was tired of living on the traditional path and conforming to societal expectations.

So I quit. I wanted to chase this crazy dream of traveling the world and experience what only a small percentage of people get to experience in their life. Pure freedom.

I also admit that I wanted (and still want) to prove to myself that I could do it myself.

The Upsides Are Real

I don’t want to paint entrepreneurship as all doom and gloom. Some upsides are undeniable, and they’re the reason I made the leap.

Here’s what entrepreneurship can offer:

• Freedom from answering to a boss or manager

• Escape from poor treatment or a job you hate

• Making your own decisions and following your gut

• Managing your own time and schedule (daily, weekly, annually)

• Designing a lifestyle suited to your situation and desires

• Focusing on work you actually enjoy

• Following a passion

• Building something with real impact

• Growing your own business instead of somebody else’s

• Income uncapped by years of experience, title, or company salary grids

• Potential for location independence (depending on your activity)

I’ll also add that it’s never been easier. With the internet and our globally connected world, new opportunities pop up weekly.

But easier than before doesn’t mean easy.

Becoming an entrepreneur gave me the chance to embrace a new lifestyle as a digital nomad without being tied to a location (which allowed me to settle in Thailand now that I’ve decided to).

The reason I’m still pursuing this now - even though I could probably make more money as an employee with less stress - is for the freedom. I love being able to start work at 2pm and focus on me-time in the morning, wake without an alarm, change timezones on a whim, disconnect without asking permission. Those points are THE MOST important for me personally.

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The Numbers Might Surprise You

Before we go further, let me share something that genuinely surprised me when I did the research.

It doesn’t match what it feels like when you look around (at least in my bubble), but here’s the reality: entrepreneurs represent less than 10% of the population.

There’s actually been a significant decline in people launching businesses over the past 20 years. Yes, there was a spike in 2020 due to COVID (job losses, lifestyle change desires, stimulus checks), but overall, people are taking fewer risks than before.

Interestingly, Gen Z shows significantly higher entrepreneurship rates - the internet generation is fully embracing the possibilities of the connected world.

But here’s the kicker about money: In the US, entrepreneurs make an average of $80K per year. The average employee salary is around $66K.

Is the stress of running your own business worth an extra $14K? That’s the question you need to ask yourself.

Because I’m not making that $80K average. Full transparency: I have not yet - after 4+ years - reached the annual salary I had when I quit. But I also have much fewer expenses, even though I traveled full-time. My monthly expenses traveling or here in Thailand are about equal to what I was paying just for rent in Miami. So all in all, it’s been okay.

The Reality Nobody Shows on Instagram

Now let’s talk about the less glamorous parts.

I’ll start by saying that no situation is ever perfect. No job is perfect. There are pros and cons to everything. It’s life.

People are also different. Some are more suited for certain situations than others.

There isn’t a right answer and a wrong answer - a better or worse situation. Just different options.

My initial take was “entrepreneurship is not the easy solution.” What I meant by that is this: if flexibility, autonomy, independence, and being your own boss don’t matter to you... if you want to be an entrepreneur just for the title and money... I would say, DON’T.

Statistically, you have way better chances of making money being an employee than having your own business. I won’t say it’s like playing the lottery - the odds are better - but still. Most entrepreneurs make less than they did as employees for years.

Here’s what the data shows:

• Year 1: 10-20% of businesses fail

• Years 2-5: 70% of businesses fail during this period

• First-time founders have an 18% success rate

• Serial entrepreneurs with prior successes have a 30% success rate

When I saw these numbers, I thought about my own journey. I’m in year 4 now, and yeah... it tracks.

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Here’s the reality:

You’ll Obsess Over Money

You will spend most of your time asking yourself: how can I make (more) money? It takes a lot of work, effort, and perseverance to get to a point where you don’t ask yourself this question every month.

My entrepreneurial journey started hard. Rosie and I saved money for a year while in Miami, anticipating it would take time to build our own income. A month after I quit and left Miami, a loved one was in a complicated situation and we decided to help them out financially. We “lost” around $14K of the $20K we had saved.

We were off to a great start before even booking our first flight to start traveling.

So yes, I know what it is to be financially stressed.

Luckily for me (I say that, but it’s not just luck, it’s hard work), I bounced back quickly and was able to make consistent money from there up until fall 2024. It wasn’t crazy amounts - probably an average of $1.5K a month - but it was enough to travel (in addition to Rosie’s income plus low cost of living while traveling). We managed to travel the world for 3+ years without touching our savings while experiencing very unique things. I’m grateful for that.

However, during fall 2024, things changed. When I decided to close my previous business, the online yoga school, I didn’t receive any salary for 5 months. That was frightening, to be honest.

We do have savings we can rely on, so I’ve never been worried to death about ending up homeless and starving. But like most of us, I’ve been conditioned by society to associate my worth with how much I make. Not making a single dollar for 5 months was hard - especially after all the hard work I had put into it.

Why do most businesses fail? Here’s what the data shows:

• No market need: 42%

• Running out of cash: 29%

• Not having the right team: 23%

• Competition: 19%

• Pricing/cost issues: 18%

Most fail because of poor judgment and decisions. Not because they didn’t work hard enough.

You Won’t Do What You Love (Most of the Time)

When you’re a software developer, you develop software. When you’re a baker, you bake. When you’re a teacher, you teach.

When you’re an entrepreneur, you do everything: start the business and run it with all the admin that comes with it; develop a product or service and price it right; do the marketing to get clients; deliver the product/service; handle design; deal with customer service; manage bookkeeping.

You actually spend very little time on the thing you love doing.

At the moment, I spend 80% of my time doing things other than coaching people or building websites. I probably spend 65% of my time on client acquisition and marketing, and the rest on admin and other tasks. Working with clients represents only 20% of how I spend my time - a few calls a week, emails/texts, and prep work.

(Part of that is because I also set a limit on how many clients I work with at the same time, but still.)

Most of your time, for a long time, will be spent on client acquisition. And if you’re grinding without having “cracked the code” to constantly get clients through your door... it’s a struggle.

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Financial Stability Is a Luxury

When you have a job, you know your paycheck is coming. When you work for yourself, you have much less guarantee of that. Some months might be huge, then you might get nothing for a quarter.

During those 5 months without pay, I still had work expenses. I had contractors to pay for the yoga school. But there was nothing left for me (or my business partner) at the end of the month. We kept the business running, hoping it would turn around, but month after month... nothing.

You need to become good at managing your cash flow and planning for the rough months until you reach a point where money flows consistently.

Let’s be real: around two-thirds of entrepreneurs are uncertain about meeting their financial needs.

The Mental Health Toll Is Real

Apparently, 87% of entrepreneurs deal with some mental health issue - constant stress, anxiety, burnout, depression, loneliness.

Remember, the goal was to be your own boss, make your own decisions, have a flexible schedule.

The reality for a long time is different:

• Making all the decisions without knowing if they’ll be right is extremely stressful

• Your flexible dreamy schedule means you work all the time because you have to grind to get there, otherwise you won’t get paid

• Being your own boss? You’re trading a manager for clients who won’t always be easy to satisfy and might “poke” you more than your manager did

Your coworkers and managers might have been a pain, but the structure allowed you to focus on what you knew. Now there’s only you. You have to do it all, whether you know how to or not. Good luck.

And as much as working by yourself can be fun, it can also get very lonely. No one to bounce ideas with, no one to meet at the coffee break, no one to back you up when you have a decision to make, no one to hide behind, no one to fix this damn problem you’re stuck with.

You work long hours, you’re stressed, you might see your friends less because you have other priorities and less budget. They won’t understand what you’re dealing with. You’ll be irritable, which will impact your household and the people you share it with.

Those are the things you don’t see on Instagram stories when influencers try to enroll you in a course to “change your life and take charge of your destiny with this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Following the closure of my yoga school, I was really lost. I didn’t know what to do to bounce back. I felt lost, lonely in my own head, numb in some ways. It was something I had never experienced before. I had spent 3 years building the school, and it ended with no pay for 5 months and a closed business.

Starting over from scratch was really hard. I had no audience. I was frustrated, down. It took a lot to get back up and put together my new coaching service.

I shared openly that I was considering giving it all up and just getting a job because I was getting tired of the instability and energy it took. I actually applied to a few jobs. The first quarter of 2025 was definitely my hardest moment.

There have been moments I felt like an idiot for leaving that Miami setup.

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Clients Become Your New Boss

I’ve been lucky with my coaching business so far and have been working with wonderful clients (I mean it - I’m not just saying that because they might read this).

But I felt it with the online yoga school. Ultimately, whatever you do, you have to deal with people’s emotions and desires. As an employee, you deal with managers and bosses. As an entrepreneur, you deal with prospects and clients.

I’ve always done my best to satisfy my clients, but sometimes I had to deal with clients unhappy with the services we offered, or clients who had something happen to them and asked for a refund. It’s stressful.

Sometimes there was nothing I could do to “fix” the problem. I couldn’t always refund clients because the cash flow was tight and I didn’t have the funds (that’s where proper contracts are essential to protect you as a business). It’s hard.

As annoying as it is, you have to stay professional, suck it up, stay polite even if you disagree. I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong - I just didn’t meet a client’s expectation, which can happen. But I couldn’t control their expectations. We had terms and conditions supporting us, but it’s unpleasant. At the end of the day, it comes with the job.

It’s never fun to disappoint people, especially when you’re really doing your best.

I admit though that the majority of people are nice and lovely. And when I say the client is the boss, what I mean is that instead of answering to your boss, you answer to them. If you don’t deliver on your promises, they will complain (rightly). So you have to meet standards, even if no one is watching over your shoulder.

So Who Should Actually Do This?

I don’t think everyone should pursue entrepreneurship.

If you’re chasing money, you can get a very good salary by educating yourself and picking the right career and company. You might not become a millionaire, but you can live a comfortable life - a life with boundaries between work and personal time.

If you’re chasing more independence, maybe look for remote work, or simply ask your current employer what’s possible. You might have a nice surprise.

I think you should chase the entrepreneurial journey if:

You have a very, very, very (very) strong WHY.

Because when it gets hard (not if, but when), when motivation hits an all-time low and stress is high, you will need a super strong why to remind you why you’re pursuing this crazy thing.

Reflect on this: If you made $0 for 6 months straight but still had to show up every day to build your business, would you still want to do this? If the answer isn’t a clear yes, reconsider. What would make it worth it for you beyond money?

You’re patient.

Don’t expect overnight success. You’ve got to be in it for the long run. We’re talking years here, not months, not a single year.

Reflect on this: Can you commit to 3-5 years of building before seeing significant results? What does success look like for you in year 1, year 3, year 5? Be honest about whether you can sustain the journey that long.

You have this itch you need to scratch.

You want to know if you’re capable of it. You want to challenge yourself and are willing to get uncomfortable, deal with unenjoyable emotions, “get punched in the face.”

Reflect on this: What are you trying to prove to yourself? Is this about external validation or internal growth? What would happen if you never tried - how would you feel in 5 years?

You’re willing to deal with your fears.

You will be judged and criticized by people around you. Be ready for it.

Reflect on this: Who are you most afraid of disappointing? What’s the worst thing someone could say about your decision to go solo? Can you live with that criticism? How will you handle doubt from people you care about?

You’re willing to deal with instability - especially financially.

Don’t be reckless, especially if people depend on you. Please, don’t put your family at risk. Plan accordingly.

Reflect on this: How many months of expenses do you have saved? What’s your minimum viable income to cover necessities? What’s your backup plan if things don’t work out? Have you discussed this honestly with anyone who depends on you financially?

You’re resilient and don’t let a loss bury you - because you will lose some battles, most of them even.

Reflect on this: Think about the last time you failed at something important. How did you handle it? How long did it take you to bounce back? What helped you get back up? Entrepreneurship will test this repeatedly.

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Why I’m Still Doing This

But I ultimately decided to keep trying.

I am passionate about coaching people. It really fills my cup and brings me a lot of joy. Even though I’m not making the money I was making as an employee, we’re okay, and we have savings in case we have bad months. So I’m not panicking.

I’ve grown a lot in the past eight years and developed good self-awareness. I have tools like daily meditation to help me stay regulated. I trust the process, I educate myself, I know these things require time, effort, and patience.

The freedom is still worth it to me. Waking up without an alarm, starting work at 2pm, having full control over my schedule - these things matter more to me than a bigger paycheck.

But that’s MY why. What’s yours?

Here’s something important: entrepreneurs with mentors are 3x more likely to succeed.

That’s not motivational fluff - that’s data. Having someone who’s been through it, who can help you avoid the mistakes they made, who can give you honest feedback when you’re stuck... it’s the difference between being part of the 18% of first-time founders who succeed versus the 82% who don’t.

You don’t have to figure this out alone.

If you’re considering the entrepreneurial path - or you’re already on it and struggling - reply to this email. I work with people who want to build intentional, freedom-focused businesses without creating new constraints. I’ve been through the trenches, made the mistakes, and learned what actually works (and what doesn’t).

Let’s have an honest conversation about whether this path is right for you - or how to navigate it if you’re already in it.