I remember my first year. Like, not first year of college. First year practicing law. My dad, my uncles, everyone back home, they were so proud. Big deal for the family. First one to make it this far. And I just thought I had to be this… hardass. This really rude, confrontational person. Because that's what I thought a lawyer was. What a successful one looked like. You know, from movies, from stories. My dad always said you gotta fight for what's yours here. So I did. I went into every meeting ready for a fight. Every phone call was a battle. I'd cut people off. Argue just to argue. Thought it made me look strong. Like I knew what I was doing. Made me feel important, you know? Like I was finally somebody. My parents, they came here with nothing. And I was supposed to be the one who made it all worth it. The one who could stand up to anyone. So I copied what I thought that meant. Being a jerk. It's funny now. In a really messed up way. I thought being a jerk meant I was good. That it made me a REAL lawyer. But it just made me exhausted. And lonely. I mean, my old firm. I burnt some bridges there. BIG bridges. I still see some of those people around sometimes. And they just… look through me. Like I'm not even there. And part of me thinks, yeah, I probably deserved that. But another part just feels like, MAN. I really screwed that up. Like I was trying so hard to be something I thought I was supposed to be. And all I did was just be a dick. For no reason. And now… what now? Just gotta keep going I guess. Pretend it never happened. Laugh about it to myself. Nobody knows anyway.