It does not start with a promotion. Or a personal brand. Or the perfect productivity system. Self-leadership begins somewhere far less visible—in the quiet, unglamorous decisions no one claps for.
I was born in July 1990 in Pachar, Kazakhstan—a time when the Soviet Union was already on the brink of collapse. But officially, everything was fine. Of course, everyone knew that was a lie. People just did not talk about it. Not until the first government employees stopped receiving their salaries. Then everything crumbled—like a building that had stood too long on rotten foundations.
A young woman scrolls through wildfire footage on her phone. Outside her window, the sky has turned the color of rusted copper, thick with smoke, unnaturally orange.
