Why my failures belong on the internet

To prevent imposter syndrome IRL

Last week, I wrote about the importance of letting people in when they genuinely ask how you're doing.

So, in the spirit of taking my own advice, here's where I’m at right now.

I've been in the thick of some pretty heavy family stuff lately. Everyone is healthy and safe, thankfully — but it's been stressful. The kind of stress that comes with disagreements, tough financial decisions, and dealing with the unknown. It's been challenging to say the least.

Dealing with family stuff can be complex

Through all of this, I've noticed myself struggling to maintain the very habits, practices and general vibes I often write about.

I've snapped at people I care about, shed more than a few tears, and been so overwhelmed, I took a few days off work to create a bit of breathing room.

Yet each week, I'm here, typing out newsletters about happiness, emotional intelligence, and communication skills.

Believe me when I say, I am fully aware of how rich that is.

I often wonder if I have any business writing about these things; managing emotions and stress when I let the stress get the better of me, or about asking for help, when there are times when I shut my loved ones out.

But recently, I've started viewing my writing a bit differently.

Joshua Fox, friend and author of What You Into? once told me it’s not about showing an ideal life or some unattainable standard. Rather, it's about vulnerability and sharing insights from my own process — mistakes included.

Like when a few weeks ago, I wrote about balancing hedonism and fulfilment, which was directly inspired by a streak of impromptu big weekends. Turns out feeling like shit on Monday (and Tuesday and Wednesday) morning is an incredible motivator for planning my nights out better. So I did. And that's when I wrote about striking that balance.

Then there was the newsletter on being sober-curious. A few days later, I was awkwardly clutching a beer, paranoid everyone around me thought I was a fraud and a hypocrite.

Not one single person cared

Sometimes I second-guess myself. I'll finish a writing a newsletter topic and immediately the imposter syndrome creeps in, and I'll consider deleting it. "Who am I to write about this when I barely manage to live it myself?"

But then I remind myself, I'm not sharing it as someone who has mastered life's toughest lessons. I'm writing it as someone who is figuring it out in real-time, just like everyone else.

Life is just an endless sequence of fuck-ups, insights, disappointments and victories. Nobody has it completely figured out. Not even the people who seem to. Especially not the people who say they have.

We are all constant works in progress - just like the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, and anyone believing its 2026 completion date is not familiar with “Spanish time”.

I still wrestle with anxiety. I ignore my own advice more than I'd like. I'm on Instagram way more than I should be. And self-doubt still stops me from pursuing things I genuinely care about.

But all of this is fine. Not like the dog drinking coffee surrounded by flames meme kinda fine. Actually fine.

When I write about ideal behaviours and habits, I do so because I know how good it feels on the days I actually follow them, not because I always do.

So the next time you read something from me, remember that I'm not necessarily writing about topics I've mastered — outside of, say, 30 Rock trivia or where to find Sydney's best chicken schnitzel.

Rather, I'm sharing the things I'm actively testing in my own life to move it forward. Some days I will succeed, other days I will fail spectacularly.

My hope is that by sharing the notes from my own wins and losses, you and I can both learn something. Perhaps, the greatest value I can offer isn't having it all figured out, but in admitting that I don't.