A Vow for Standards
I remember the exact moment I said it.
Four years old.
Louder than I had a right to be.
Told my whole family, clear and certain:
“I’m going to be a lawyer.”
I didn’t fully know what it meant—
but I said it like it was already done.
No hesitation. No fallback.
Just the voice of a child.
They laughed, a little.
Smiled, mostly.
But something about that moment stayed.
Still, I thought I was unsure for a while.
There were phases—
I wanted to be a CEO.
A soldier.
A boxer.
A drummer.
Big dreams. Loud ones.
All part of trying to figure out what kind of man I wanted to be.
But every time the smoke cleared,
one thing remained:
Law.
Always law.
The only dream that didn’t come and go—
just stayed. Quietly. Firmly.
Waiting for me to grow into it.
Some may think ambition is about drive.
But for me, it was about staying power.
Through burnout.
Through pressure.
Through those nights where it was just me, the books, the music,
and a mind that wouldn’t shut off.
There were louder paths.
Easier wins.
Faster fame.
But I kept coming back to this—
not because it was convenient,
but because it asked more of me.
I’ve been tested.
By fatigue. By circumstance.
By moments I thought I’d lost the thread completely.
But the vision never died.
Even when the lights were off.
Even when no one was watching.
Even when the world got louder, messier,
and more artificial—
this stayed real.
I’ve never chased the lawyer image for status.
Never said it to impress.
It was a vow I made before I even knew what a vow meant.
And that makes it different.
Because I didn’t get here by accident—
I stayed the course.
I paid the cost.
I’ve seen people pivot and crumble.
Trade life for dopamine.
Imitate depth, hoping no one would notice the cracks.
But some things can’t be copied—
and one of them is grit that comes with origin.
Mine goes back to that four-year-old kid.
Still bold. Still steady.
Still walking like he heard the verdict already—
And it was “Keep Going”.
I’m going to be a lawyer.
And now, I know exactly what that means.
July 4, 2025