The moment that changes you. Forever.

There’s always a moment.

You’d be lying if you said in that moment, you knew it was going to define you. A moment you only realise in retrospect. Of how it crafted you. How it made you the person you are today. A crack. A sting. And before you know it, that moment is living rent-free in your head, shaping everything you do after.

People miss it. They bury it. Call it “just a bad day.” But it’s a fork in the road moment.

The version of you before that moment? Gone. The version after? Different. Maybe stronger. But definitely altered.

The moment rewires you. And it almost always goes one of two ways.

One: You become that guy.

The one who inflicts the same pain that was once handed to you. You justify it as “just how things work.”

You normalize it. You treat people the way you were treated. And because you survived, and they will too. Right?

OR

Two: You swear never to be that guy.

You remember exactly how it felt. And you make damn sure nobody who works with you ever feels that way under your watch. You carry the scar not as a weapon, but as a shield. For others.

In retrospect, many years after this moment, is when I knew I was defined by it. I had no idea in that moment that it would change me. So dramatically.

I’d asked my boss for a few days off after my wedding. Just time to settle into a new home. But he started negotiating.

Not based on business urgency. Based on leverage.

He said, “I don’t see the need for it.” And I had leaves I had earned.

I was surprised he took that path.

In that moment, I considered saying “In that case, I’ll resign.” But I needed that job. I couldn’t just walk away. So I swallowed my pride and agreed to a shorter leave.

That day did something to me. I was angry in that moment, and the following day too.

But in a few weeks, It wasn’t just anger. I felt powerless. The realisation that in a system built to treat people as “resources,” my wedding was just a blip in someone else’s project plan.

I haven’t asked for the reason for my team member’s leave application since. I’ve just said “Take it” or “alright”.

And yet, surprisingly, my people always tell me why.

They trust me with the real stuff.

The messy, honest, human stuff.

Sometimes it’s a family situation. A familial land dispute. A health situation.

Sometimes it’s just, “I just feel like doing nothing today.”

When people feel safe, they show up. Fully. And I don’t have to chase them to get work done.

But it was not a vow I made then to be this way in that moment. I only realised this in retrospect. That it was a fork in the road moment and it changed me. For the better.

That moment, it could’ve made me cold. But instead, it made me kind.

So ask yourself: when your moment comes, the one that breaks you, humbles you, catches you off guard - what will it turn you into?

Because that moment will shape you.

And whether it turns you into a mirror of your pain or a remedy for someone else’s, that’s on you.