This Minute Matters: “Pick Me—Said Me”

Being in the fight for your own damn life can feel like surviving in the Wild West with no sheriff, no backup, and a tumbleweed of silence rolling by. How do I know? Because I’m in that showdown myself.

Let’s be real, friends? Ghosted. Family? Either missing in action or watching from the cheap seats. For years, I didn’t even flinch. But then—bam—life tackled me right at the 50-yard line. Suddenly, I was looking back at all the wasted plays: time spent pouring into people who wouldn’t have even poured me a glass of water if I was on fire.

But here’s the kicker: I was the one who benched me. I didn’t even pick myself for my own damn team. I was standing in the shadows yelling, “Hey! Pick me! I’m ready!” while simultaneously walking right past myself like I was invisible.

I thought I needed someone else to see my worth before I could put a price tag on my brilliance. Please. I’m a creative beast, I can design circles around chaos, spot waste like a detective, find money where folks swear it doesn’t exist, decode consumer minds for breakfast, and link people like a human Wi-Fi router. Media? That’s my playground.

And yet… I still dragged 30 years of hustle, talent, and overachievement straight into the abyss, where my soul went missing like my old iPhone charger. I didn’t just become an option to others… I became an option to myself.

So here’s today’s gospel: stop waiting to be picked. Pick your damn self. Lace up. You’re already on the team, you just forgot to pass yourself the ball.

💭 This Minute Matters: The world doesn’t start clapping until you do.