
A letter from my future self…
Dear Me,
So here I am, ten years on, writing back. Funny thing is, the skill I mastered wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t cooking, coding, or speaking seven languages (though, let’s be honest, that would’ve been handy when trying to decode executor-speak). No, the real skill was trusting myself and seeing through the nonsense without letting it own me.
Learning it was messy. I doubted myself every second, wondering if I was over-reacting, under-reacting, or just plain imagining things. Add in a few unanswered emails, conveniently timed “accidents,” and the usual Bully-level theatrics, and it could’ve gone either way. But here’s the twist: all of that chaos was training. I learned to stop chasing their games and started trusting my gut instead. That’s the compass that never fails.

This one skill shaped everything. It gave me the strength to walk away when the drama was thick, the patience to wait when timing mattered, and the sharp wit to write about it all with a smile. Future Mae doesn’t lose sleep over the clowns anymore. I just sip my tea, stack the turf, and keep the boots ready by the door.
So keep at it. Keep writing. Keep laughing. Keep calling it like you see it. Turns out, the nonsense never stops, but the power comes when you stop dancing to its tune.
Granny Frass chimes in..
“Well, Mae, if you’ve learned to spot a fool from ten paces and save your breath for something useful, then you’re richer than most. Remember, turf burns brighter when it’s dry, and so do you, once you’ve stopped letting the damp nonsense weigh you down.”
Yours with a smirk and a steady hand,
–Future Mae 🧡
Lesson of the Day: Sometimes the greatest skill you can learn is the art of stepping out of the circus ring and enjoying the show from the front row.

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