Achievement Lately: When Netflix Inspires You to Get Off the Couch

I’ve been thinking a lot about achievement lately.

So there I was, deep into a House of Cards binge—watching fictional politicians claw their way to the top of the power ladder—while I sat comfortably on the couch doing the exact opposite. The irony, right? But in my defense, I was multitasking. Kind of.

Somewhere between episode five and a second bowl of popcorn, this familiar pounding started in my chest. Not anxiety. Not caffeine. But that persistent feeling that I need to write this book.

I’ve been dodging this story for a while because, honestly, it’s a heavy one. It’s complicated. It's traumatic. It’s the kind of story that makes your hands tremble before they hit the keyboard. But it’s also the story that could save someone else from making the same mistake.

And maybe that’s the reason it keeps tugging at me.

It was the most traumatic experience of my life. It opened my eyes to the dark corners of the world—and the kinds of people who prey on the naive, the hopeful, the trusting. People say I’m strong, and I appreciate that, but strength isn’t something you wake up with. It’s forged. And this experience… forged me.

The good news? Last night, I wrote.

And when I wrote, I felt okay. Actually okay. I expected to feel panic, or to break down, or to stop halfway through. But I didn’t. It was like something had shifted. Maybe years of therapy and prayer actually worked. Maybe I’m finally on the other side of it.

So why write it now?

Because the story matters. Because I’m not the only one it’s happened to—and I won’t be the last if no one speaks up. Because a man who once lured me with a dream was later arrested for grand larceny. Because closure isn’t always silent; sometimes it’s written.

I’ve drafted versions of this book for years. None of them stuck. But this time feels different. It feels right. And if God keeps nudging me toward it, then maybe it’s finally time to listen. Every time I ignore it, the guilt grows louder. And honestly? I’m tired of carrying it.

So yes, I’ll write the book.

But also, yes—I will finish House of Cards.

Balance, people.

I'm Rubber, You're Glue

It’s late and I really should be reading an article for class—yes, I’m back in school pursuing my MBA. I’m not entirely sure where it’ll lead me, but the future feels full of promise. For now, I’m in one of those late-night reflective moods. A little random, a little philosophical.

Lately, I’ve found myself becoming more and more a student of human behavior. The more I experience and learn, the more I notice how easily egos can be bruised—especially when the hurt comes from someone we hold in high regard. I’m not immune to it. Sometimes it feels like one careless comment can slash straight through your confidence.

But then I remember that childhood comeback: “I’m rubber, you’re glue—whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.” Kids really had it right. What changed? I think puberty turned us all into emotional puddles.

We forget that the present is all we truly have. Not the past we can’t change or the future we can’t predict—but the now. And now is always the best moment if we let it be.

I’ve always tried to be an advocate for living life happily. Sure, bad things happen—losses, heartbreak, setbacks. But those are the things that teach us. They push us to grow. And through it all, I’ve realized one thing: the less you care about what people think, the more you get to be yourself. Fully. Unapologetically.

I know my friends and family love me for exactly that—my love of life, my goofy laugh, my corny jokes, and my random trivia I feel everyone must know. And that’s the best kind of love: the kind that grows when you stop shrinking yourself to fit someone else’s comfort.

So let the criticism bounce off. You’re rubber, remember?

Let people love you for being you.

Positivity Is Your Destiny

This morning sparked a fresh wave of motivation in me. During my vacation from work, I promised myself I’d spend time writing—but I wasn’t quite sure where the inspiration would come from.

Then, the Comedian sent me a text. It was a message from Joel Osteen, and everything clicked into place. He touched on something I had just been thinking about the day before: you are in charge of your destiny. If you walk through life with a negative mindset, negativity will follow. But if you decide to embrace positivity, great things begin to unfold.

While watching a video the Comedian shared, I saw this quote that stuck with me:

"I'm a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work the more I have of it." —Thomas Jefferson

It reminded me of stories I’ve heard over the years that fuel my own ambition. Like Jack Canfield, the author of Chicken Soup for the Soul. Struggling financially, he wrote himself a check for $100,000 and visualized receiving it. Not long after, he started selling articles for $1 each. He sold 100,000—and made that exact amount. Or Jim Carrey, who famously wrote himself a check for $10 million while still a struggling actor. Not long after, he was paid exactly that for Dumb and Dumber.

Now, maybe you're sitting there thinking, That would never happen to me. What makes me so special?

And that right there—that thought—is the problem. Self-doubt clouds your ability to receive. The truth is, you are special. You were born with something unique to offer this world. When you start envisioning your dreams as realities, when you move in faith instead of fear, life begins to shift. God works in ways we don’t always understand—but He does work.

People have told me all my life there’s something special about me. I haven’t fully uncovered what that is yet—but I’m not giving up. I believe I’m meant for something amazing. And you know what? So are you.

A couple of years ago, I came up with this quote, and I still stand by it:

“I refuse to believe misery is my destiny.”

You don’t have to accept unhappiness as your end. You are the author of your own story. Choose to write it with faith, hope, and positivity.

Because your destiny is waiting.