I'm an artist...
so I CAN'T be punctual.
For years, I clung to this story like it was part of my DNA. It was really convenient. It was comfortable. It was… complete BS.
The real revelation?
I wasn’t late because I was an artist. I was late because it gave me an excuse to stay a child.
The wake-up call came when my father-in-law pointed out that I wasn’t there for my son.
I was hidding behind show deliveries and overtime. The truth was that my disorganization was leading me to overtime.
Here’s the thing:
Our family patterns aren’t our destiny. They’re just stories we tell ourselves. And the good news? We can write new ones.
My hardest transformation?
Letting go of the comfort of irresponsibility. Abandoning that toxic idea that freedom means having no structure.
The truth? Discipline is freedom. Yep.
Today, I wake up earlier. I plan. I communicate. And guess what?
I’m still an artist (beside many aspects of “me”). Just one who shows up on time and is present for his childrens.
The craziest part? Now people are surprised when I’m late.
So, what toxic story are you ready to rewrite?
PS: Sometimes, the greatest act of creation is creating a better version of yourself.
