Another year and another family gathering where the traditionally successful family members roll up in their shiny cars and showy kids in tow.

And there you are, the screwup. The one who didn’t see value in settling for an average life. You’re broke, stuck, plotting the next swing of the bat.

They’ve seen you struggle, showing up every year with no stitch of showable progress. The hard lessons you’ve learned can only be experienced to really be appreciated.

You smile along as the usual pleasantries are exchanged. Knowing invariably, the focus will shift to you and what you’ve been up to.

You’ve been doing the same thing you’ve been doing for years, surviving with a menial job while continuing to think and dream on your future venture.

You’ve started, stopped, changed courses over and again since last year. Your gut still hasn’t fully been convinced.

You’ve read more books this year than they’ve read in their entire life.

You’re in better shape than everybody there.

You’re working towards a fantastic vision.

But all they see is a broke loser.

You wouldn’t trade your life for theirs for a billion dollars. They think it’s crazy to live the way you do. And the feeling is mutual.

So there’s that ultimate disconnect. That will only be resolved when you’ve finally made it.

When you can show them all that you did it your way.

You don’t even care about having a Benz but now you want to get a Lambo just because you know how much it’ll make them feel inferior. The way you feel right now.

But then you tell yourself: they don’t get it. They don’t get life. It’s not about these goofy status games.

It’s not about sacrificing your time and energy doing a job you don’t love just to have some big house and some toys to show others “I made it!.”

You remember you signed up for this life to do something impactful. To join the titans who changed the world through their ventures for the betterment of society.

Tonight we suffer through the small talk, we let their eyes of pity, concern, even anger stab through us like daggers.

We let the shame wash over us as we sit at the kids table and marvel at the youth who we might reach before their parents infect them with their expectations for them: a life of similar drudgery.

Tonight we fake smile and internally vow to blow them away with our progress this time next year. Just like we said we’d do last year, and the year before.

Win lose or draw, we still decided to go for it. We might be right next year, and we might not. But one thing we won’t ever do is stop.

Happy Thanksgiving bros. 🫡