I had the career. The awards. The briefs that took me from Clifton beach to the Colombian jungle. Creative Director at the top of the ladder.
What nobody tells you about the top of the ladder is that it's bolted to a wall you didn't choose.
The golden cage. Looks gorgeous. Locks quietly. One day you realise you're performing enthusiasm for a life that stopped fitting years ago.
I left. Not gracefully — I was pushed. And in the rubble I found something I hadn't had in decades: the freedom to choose what comes next.
What surprised me most wasn't the freedom itself. It was discovering I didn't have to choose between being a creator and building something that actually works. Between writing, painting, making things that feel like me — and building income that pays, grows, sustains.
I'd spent thirty years believing those two things were in opposition. They're not. They never were.
Now I live differently. Amsterdam for now. Somewhere else when it feels right. I write when I want to write. I make art when I need to make art. And I help others see their own cage — name it, map it, and walk out of it.
Turns out you don't have to sacrifice your soul to build a life. You just have to build it on your terms.