By nature, I’m blunt. I’m irreverent. I speak directly, I don’t perform deference, and I usually say what others are only thinking. I like friction. I like clarity. I don’t mind a little disruption, not because I want attention, but because it sharpens the work. That’s how I’m wired.
But when I depend on other people to give me money in exchange for labor, I don’t always get to show up that way. So I filter.
I pause before I speak. I reread emails I used to fire off without thinking. I replay conversations to make sure I wasn’t too sharp, too fast, or too much. I pick my moments to challenge and let the rest pass. Not because I’ve changed who I am, but because I’ve learned that how I land matters more than how right I am.
This isn’t about burnout or bitterness. I like the work I do. I respect the people I work with. I’m fortunate to be in a role that gives me autonomy and trust. But I also know the reality—I like getting paid. I have an addiction to food and shelter. And until I no longer need a paycheck, I’ll keep filtering just enough to stay effective, trusted, and employed.
I’m not trying to be liked. I’m trying to stay free. Free to walk away when the time is right, with enough stored up to stop filtering and just speak plainly.
When that day comes, I’m done with the game. I’m done working.
