After 18 years on this platform, I’ve decided to step away indefinitely. This isn’t a political statement. It’s not an indictment of Elon or the direction of the platform. It’s something deeper—something shifting inside me. A fundamental reorientation of what I value, what nourishes me, and where I want to direct my attention and energy. I’ve been noticing the subtle ways this platform shapes me, the way it pulls me into a certain kind of headspace—one that fuels negativity and often feels charged with ego. And to be clear, I don’t think ego is bad. I love my ego. It gets shit done. It moves through the world, builds things, takes risks. But I want my life, my work, my relationships to be rooted in something deeper. And yet, I can feel the part of me that wants to stay—the part that craves the pulse of it all. The ideas, the information, the speed at which it comes—intoxicating. There’s a charge to this place, a feeling of always being in the mix, of ideas colliding in real time. But beneath that pull, there’s a quieter knowing. And I can’t ignore it—it’s time to go. Lately, I’ve been re-evaluating everything in my life that creates more noise than joy, more distraction than aliveness. I want to simplify, to clear out what muddies my attention and blocks access to presence. This is part of that process—letting go of what no longer feels essential, so I can make more space for what does. I’m putting into practice what I preach to my clients. I’ve come to realize that these mass-market feeds, driven by algorithms, erode the quality of my attention. And attention—what I focus on, what I give myself to—shapes everything. It’s how reality is experienced. How life is lived. I want more agency over what enters my awareness, because what I consume shapes how I think, how I feel, and ultimately, how I move through the world. More and more, I find myself drawn to soul—to stillness, to attention, to depth. To communities that are living with intention, where the signal-to-noise ratio feels cleaner. Where conversations aren’t just performances for attention or status games but are grounded in something real—curiosity, truth, genuine connection. And I’ve been feeling a quiet but persistent resistance to being here. Part of me has wanted to dismiss that feeling. I’ve amassed nearly 90,000 followers. And while I haven’t been super active here, the numbers keep growing. Many friends still gather here and share, but it’s becoming harder to truly engage. A version of me—the old me—was deeply invested in this space. But things have changed. It’s not what it used to be, and much of it now feels performative. The truth is, the new me doesn’t belong here in the same way. And I don’t think I’m alone in this. I see more and more people quietly stepping back—not out of cynicism, but out of a desire for something richer, something more authentic and expressive. Maybe in this new world we find ourselves in, we’re all searching for new ways to belong. What feels right now is crafting longer-form, more personal essays. Following curiosity in a slower, more spacious way. Participating in smaller communities that are grounded in real connection, depth, and presence. Learning and being inspired from a different orientation. I have nothing but love for this platform. That’s what makes leaving so hard. In so many ways, it has changed my life for the better. I’ve landed dream jobs, made lifelong friends, built a successful coaching practice, and learned more than I could have imagined. But as I continue to move further away from an identity rooted in achievement and doing it just feels like time to walk away. If you want to stay engaged, read my future musings, or explore a coaching relationship, you can find me on Substack or LinkedIn. And if there are any intentional communities I should consider joining, please keep me in mind. I’d love to hear from you. But for now, I’m making space for what matters most. May you discover that for yourself.