The Empty Glass

Opening

For a long time, the question echoed in my empty room: Am I wrong for loving them too much? It is a question that questions your own sanity. I know I wasn't born a saint. But for a while, I deeply regretted taking off my armor. I regretted the day I left my island and opened my soul to people. I asked myself if I was just loving the wrong kind of people.

My friends in the industry told me, "You cannot love your employees that way. No matter what you do, you will always end up insufficient to them. Business and love do not mix."

But I completely defy that perspective. How can a business grow if love for the people grinding for your vision is missing? If love isn't the tie that binds a team together through the fire... then what is?

Because my love for them was genuine, I realized something crucial: I could not take vengeance.

Yes, I was furious. There were days I wanted to crucify all of them for the pain they put me through. But I looked in the mirror and realized that taking revenge is just allowing yourself to become a vessel where hatred lives longer. So, I did the unthinkable. I initiated the reconciliation.

It takes divine humility to apologize to the people who have wronged you. But relationship is more important to me than anything. I can build a business and fail. I can lose money and gain it back. But trust... trust is different. People say that trust is like glass—once it shatters, it can never be pieced back together. I completely disagree. We are not fragile objects. We are human beings. We have the power to heal our own brokenness.

So, I reached out. I told them I was sorry we didn't make it to the end. I was sorry for not being a perfect boss. And most importantly, I was sorry to myself for not guarding my own kindness.

I dropped the baggage

When you plan to soar again, you cannot lift off the ground if you are carrying heavy weights. Grudges and hatred are excess baggage. The moment I finally put that weight down, I physically felt my body begin to rise from the bottom.

But forgiving them was only half the battle. I still had to forgive myself.

When I was at my lowest, a friend gave me some advice. He said, "Don't give yourself so much to others. Keep a portion of yourself hidden. Save something for yourself so when they leave, you aren't completely empty."

It sounded like wisdom, but I knew it was poison.

Imagine a glass filled with iced tea. You drink most of it, but instead of emptying the glass completely, you keep a little bit of the old tea at the bottom to "save" it. Then, you pour fresh tea on top. You do this over and over, always keeping a residue of the past at the bottom of the glass.

Without you noticing, that old residue starts to grow…

To receive something entirely new, you have to empty the glass completely. You are not drinking the bitter residue of your past.

It is only with empty hands that you can catch a new blessing. If your hands are closed into fists of anger, or tightly holding onto the past, they cannot receive the future. I had to completely drain myself—not for them, but for me.

I emptied the glass. I forgave myself.

Not everything that fails is doomed to be a failure. Failures are simply companions on the road to success.

As the smoke cleared from the ashes of my old empires, my perspective shifted. I realized my vision didn't die. It had simply outgrown the soil it was planted in. To build what I was truly meant to build, I was going to have to look far beyond the borders of everything I knew.

It was time to pack my bags. The horizon was calling.