Hey there,
I didn’t write an article last week. And if I’m honest, it’s because I felt like a hypocrite.
I’ve been dispensing advice left and right, but I haven’t been following my own. It felt inauthentic, and that’s something I never want my writing to be.
So, I took a step back and spent some time reflecting.
Why is it so easy to give advice and yet so hard to take it? Why do we find it effortless to tell others what they should do, but when it comes to ourselves, we hesitate?
I realized a few things during this period of introspection, and I want to share them with you.
First, there’s Emotional Distance
When you’re giving advice, you’re an outsider looking in. You can see the situation clearly, without the emotional baggage that comes with being in it.
It’s like watching a game from the stands—you see everything clearly. But being on the field is a whole different story.
This distance allows you to offer clear, objective advice to others while struggling to do the same for yourself.
We’re all walking around with these mental blind spots, little distortions in how we perceive our own situations.
These biases mess with our judgment, making it tough to see the big picture.
For instance, you might stay in a job you hate because you’ve already spent years building a career there. Your investment of time and effort blinds you to the fact that moving on could lead to greater happiness and success.
Change is scary. It’s uncomfortable. Even when we know what we need to do, the thought of disrupting our current state can be paralyzing. It’s easy to tell someone to take a leap of faith when you’re not the one standing on the edge of the cliff.
When you give advice, you’re not responsible for the outcome. You’re not the one who has to deal with the consequences. This detachment allows you to speak freely and with conviction. But when it’s your own life, every decision feels like it carries the weight of the world.
Sometimes, we simply don’t trust ourselves. We might know what the right course of action is, but self-doubt creeps in, whispering that we’re not capable or deserving. It’s easier to believe in others than it is to believe in ourselves.
After spending some time reflecting, I realized it was time to get back to basics. Time to stop overthinking and start applying the advice I so easily give to others. Here's what I’ve been working on:
Remind yourself of past successes and the advice you’ve given that has helped others. Trust that you have the wisdom to navigate your own life as well.
You know, I started writing to explore my thoughts and share my journey. But somewhere along the way, I started writing to attract an audience.
I became more focused on what would get clicks and likes rather than what was authentic to me. And guess what? The passion started fading.
A few weeks back, I wrote about how to make a million dollars online, which goes against why I started writing in the first place. I was chasing the shiny object, the promise of monetization, instead of staying true to my purpose.
Ironic, isn’t it?
I’ve been telling you to be authentic, to follow your passions, but I wasn’t following my own advice.
It’s a tough pill to swallow, but it’s also a wake-up call.
I’ve talked about the “Fuck It” philosophy before—doing what feels right without overthinking it.
But I haven’t fully embraced it myself. I’ve hesitated to start recording videos, to speak my truth unfiltered. Why? Fear of judgment, fear of not being good enough.
But here’s the thing that I have to keep reminding myself: authenticity is magnetic.
When you’re real, people connect with you on a deeper level. They see themselves in your struggles and triumphs. They feel your passion and resonate with your truth.
When you don’t..well.. people can sniff it.
So, here I am, writing to you from a place of renewed authenticity. No more writing to please an audience. Just me, sharing what’s really on my mind.
With that being said, I recently listened to a Founders Podcast on one of the best filmmakers of our generation, Quentin Tarantino. I’ve distilled the most relevant and applicable lessons I took from it, and I hope that it brings value to you like they did to me.
Listening to this podcast was kind of wake-up call. A reminder of what it takes to truly make it in any field.
Here are three lessons that hit me hard:
Tarantino didn’t just enjoy movies; he was obsessed with them.
He lived and breathed film, working at a video store for peanuts, soaking up everything he could about the industry. He was a film geek long before he was a filmmaker. His passion was so intense that he didn't just watch movies; he
The takeaway? If you’re not ready to eat, sleep, and breathe your passion, you're not going to make it. Find what lights your fire and go all in.
Half-assed effort yields half-assed results.
me
Tarantino had an encyclopedic knowledge of film history, not because he was born with it, but because he put in the hours.
While other people were out partying, he was diving deep into movies, taking notes, and building a mental database of everything he saw.
This relentless pursuit of knowledge allowed him to stand on the shoulders of giants and create something unique.
Key lesson: Learn from the past, absorb everything, and then use that knowledge to fuel your innovation. Stop making excuses and start making progress.
Hollywood wanted Tarantino to play it safe. They told him to cut scenes, change cast members, and conform to the cookie-cutter mold of blockbuster films.
But Tarantino flipped them the bird and did things his way. He stayed true to his vision, and guess what? It worked.
Authenticity is rare, and it’s powerful. People can smell bullshit from a mile away, and they crave something real. In your work, don’t be afraid to stand out. Be fearless, be authentic, and don’t let anyone water down your vision. The world doesn’t need another clone; it needs you.
In the end, it's pretty simple:
If you’ve ever felt the same way—if you’ve ever struggled to follow your own advice—I hope this resonates with you. We’re all trying to navigate life’s complexities as best as we can.
Learning, unlearning, and relearning.
It’s okay to stumble and to take a step back. What’s important is that you keep moving forward, staying true to yourself.
Life isn’t about perfection; it’s about progress and the wisdom we gain along the way.
Stay true, stay curious, and keep growing.
Strategizingly yours,
Ben