I’m sharing something I’ve never fully told anyone. It’s about the moment my life changed forever. It’s not clean, it’s not easy, and it’s far from perfect. But it’s real. And if you take a few minutes to read this, maybe you’ll understand why I’m doing this, why I feel this relentless need to create something that goes beyond me. To give back the hope that I once thought I’d lost forever. It’s messy. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s the truth. And maybe, just maybe, it’ll speak to you too

I’m not supposed to be here. Not in this moment, not living this life.

If things had gone the way they were supposed to, I’d still be on that predetermined path.

I’d have a steady job, a sense of security, a clear, safe path forward. The life the system promised me, the only life I thought I deserved.

That’s what I was taught to aim for.

18+ years of education, of conditioning, all leading to a future where I played my part quietly.

To be a faceless name in an office, someone who played it safe and followed the rules. Someone who traded dreams for a paycheck, who learned to be okay with just enough.

That’s the only story I was taught possible for someone like me by the people shaping me as I grew.

They didn't mean any harm; they were passing down the only script they knew.

But I accepted it. I stopped questioning it.

And believing in that story, in their vision for me, became the most damaging thing I’ve ever done to myself.

I stopped believing in anything outside of what I was “meant” to be.

And it’s terrifying to think how far you’ll go just to belong.

To fit into a world that was never made for you.

For many years I sacrificed my authenticity, my creativity, everything that made me who I was.

I'd lost myself and became a ghost of who I could’ve been.

But it wasn’t always like this.

There was a time when I believed in more than just survival. A time when I thought the world had room for me, my dreams, my voice, my impossible ambitions.

I was a kid then.

I remember those first nine years of my life, when everything felt possible.

But it all changed on April 18, 2007

It was the day the light went out.

The day I lost her.

My mother.

When she died, I never really accepted it.

A part of me kept waiting, kept believing that one day she’d come back.

Maybe I’d turn around, and she’d be there, like nothing had ever changed.

I was waiting for a sign. For something.

But eventually, I had to let go. I stopped waiting for the impossible.

Stopped believing she’d show up.

And somewhere along the way, I stopped believing in myself too.

And for years after, it felt like the light went out for good.

Everything turned small, gray, suffocating.

I was just another shadow moving through the motions of a life I never chose.

Until the day she came back.

The Letter

I had registered for this competition, the kind of thing that schools push you to join if they think you have potential. But I didn’t see it that way.

I wasn’t deluded. I knew from the start I had zero chance.

It was a competition designed to find the elite in their fields, those who belong to a different league.

Past winners included names like Victor Hugo, Louis Pasteur, and countless other giants.

The best in every field of the entire country competed for this honor. Hundreds of candidates in every fields competing to become a Laureate.

But me? I was a nobody in that race. I wasn’t even the top of my class, not by a long shot. I wasn’t even supposed to be in the conversation.

My classmates and I? We were just trying to survive the Bac.

So I didn’t sign up with dreams of glory; I signed up just to add a line to my CV, a small consolation prize. A participation trophy.

I even remember my father asking, “Why aren’t you preparing more for this? Shouldn’t you be doing something?”

But what was the point? I knew my place. I knew I wasn’t supposed to stand out. Not in this, and certainly not in a competition meant to discover "the next greats".

And yet, there I was, holding a letter in my hands that said I was among the final five.

I stared at it like it was written in a foreign language.

This wasn’t possible. This wasn’t real. It didn’t make any sense.

When I say I didn’t deserve it, I mean that with everything in me. I didn’t.

If there’s such a thing as a miracle, this was it. An act of randomness. The universe playing a cosmic joke.

But then here I was, with this letter in my hands, telling me that I had a shot.

A Promise

That day, something broke open inside me, something raw and restless that I hadn’t felt in years.

It was a pulse, a reminder of who I used to be, a small voice that said maybe, just maybe, this was a way out.

A way back to the part of me I’d buried alongside all those dreams.

It wasn’t just about being a finalist. It was about what that letter meant, what it dared me to do.

So I made a promise, to her, to myself.

If I won the first prize, I’d drop out of everything that kept me tethered to mediocrity and bet it all on myself. I’d build something that was truly mine.

The strangest part? I knew I had already won.

The second I opened that letter, I knew no one else could beat me.

I knew it with a certainty that felt unshakable, absolute.

It didn’t matter that I was up against the best-trained, most-prepared competitors in the country.

It didn’t matter that I was the underdog. It didn’t matter that I had no business being there in the first place.

They had all the right strategies, the right backgrounds, the polished résumés. But they didn’t have what I had.

They didn’t know what it meant to fight like their life truly depended on it.

Later that day, I called my grandmother to tell her.

But in that call,

she said something that broke me.

Something that for a long time made me laugh, cry, rage against the absurdity of it all.

The day I received the letter..

The day that had haunted me, that I had spent years trying to forget, was now the same day that this letter appeared in my life.

April 18th.

The same day, nine years ago, when everything changed.

The day I lost her.

The day that had shattered me was now giving me a chance to rebuild.

At that moment, April 18th wasn’t just the day I lost my mom anymore.

It was the day I found myself.

The Continuation

Today, I’m in a position I never imagined for myself.

A position I’m deeply grateful for, because I know, without a doubt, that if that miracle hadn’t happened, if that letter had never arrived, I would be living the life the system laid out for me.

The life I had accepted. The life I had surrendered to.

So when I say I’m not supposed to be here, that’s exactly what I mean.

That day, April 18th, was the day I got my confidence back.

It was the day that broke through years of programming, years of being told what I could and couldn’t be.

It was the day I decided to bet on myself, fully and completely. Not just to win some competition, but to win at life.

I threw everything into it, my time, my energy, my money. I invested in the vision I had buried for too long. I refused to let that spark die again.

I committed myself to doing whatever was necessary, to breaking free of the story others wrote for me, and instead writing my own.

And that energy, that relentless drive, that hunger that woke up in me, is what I want to share with as many people it can help.

To create something with those who feel like I did, stuck and suffocated by what they’ve been told is possible.

But it’s more than just energy.

It’s the knowledge I’ve gained along the way.

It’s the strategies, the tools, and the insights I had to learn the hard way.

It’s every resource that someone like me, someone who’s been dismissed, underestimated, needs to put the odds in their favor and finally take control of their life.

Because I know what it’s like to be trapped in that story. And I'm lucky to also know what it’s like to break free.

Projet Solo - A Movement Beyond Me (Mostly In french for now but if the english side grows I’'ll make it happen)

This movement I’m building, it’s not just out of selflessness.

I’m not going to pretend I don’t have something to gain from it. I do. Opportunities for business, collaborations, new ventures that could open doors I haven’t even imagined yet.

But there’s a deeper purpose driving me, one that goes beyond ambition.

It’s about carrying forward something intangible, an energy, maybe even her spirit in a way.

It’s not about her directly, but I hope that the energy she gave me, the effect of that letter, of that day, don’t end with me.

I want it to extend far beyond my own life, creating ripples that turn into waves, waves that lift others the way they lifted me.

I want to see these events multiply, to see many, many more stories of transformation unfold because of it.

So, here’s my 2 commitments:

Free Knowledge.

I don’t believe knowledge should be kept secret and inaccessible to most.

Not the kind that can change lives.

So through this project, I will share 100% of what I’ve learned, every hard-earned lesson, every tool that helped me along the way, every mistake and every victory.

All of it, made accessible to anyone who joins this movement and contributes to its growth.

I’ve walked the tough path, and I want to lay out a map for those who come after. I want anyone who’s willing to listen, anyone who needs it, to have all the chances possible at their side.

Building a Community.

Now, knowledge alone isn’t enough. True growth comes from connection, from the exchange of ideas, and from learning together.

And one of the best ways to unlock that power is by connecting directly with each other.

That’s why I want to:

1) Organize weekly live conversations.

They’re a chance for all of us to connect, share ideas, ask questions, and really dig into the topics that matter.

I’ve seen firsthand how transformative these types of conversations can be. They spark new ideas, build real relationships, and help you see things from perspectives you might not have considered.

2) A Private Space

A direct line to me and to others who are on the same path.

Think of it as a space where you can reach out anytime, ask your questions, share your struggles, and get real, personalized advice from someone who’s been where you are.

For now we are going to do it here on Substack and we'll see how it evovles.

I’m ready to pour my time, my energy, my focus into building this.

And along the way, I hope many of you will join, not just as spectators, but as true contributors, co-creators who help shape what this community becomes.

How to Be Part of This Movement

Everyone is welcome to join. As subscriber, you’ll have access to all the newsletters, videos, conversations, everything I share openly. It’s all there for you, no barriers.

But for those who want to go deeper, there are two ways to unlock access to the private resources, live sessions, and the community:

Become a Contributor:

This is the heart of what I want to build: a community where value is shared and multiplied.

You don’t have to pay to access more. If you believe in this movement, all I ask is that you share it with others. Recommend it to someone who might need it.

Share your experiences, your thoughts, and help bring in others who are looking for the same freedom, the same opportunity.

By doing this, you’ll gain access to everything the community offers. Because your contribution means more than money; it means growth, it means reach, it means impact.

Choose a Paid Subscription (If You Really Want To):

For those who might prefer a more straightforward way to access everything, there is an option to become a paid subscriber that i've made ridiculously affordable.

But I’ll be honest, this isn’t something I want to push. I’d rather see people join through genuine connection and sharing.

If you do decide to support in this way, know that every penny will be reinvested into the community, improving the experience, adding new resources, and maybe even expanding into new projects that give back.

The Next Chapter

With Dropout, I’ve shared my story, my struggles, my turning point.

Now, I want to share everything I’ve learned along the way. I want to make sure that no one else has to feel as trapped or as small as I once did. That no one has to accept the story others try to write for them.

I know what it’s like to feel stuck, to think that the life you dream of is out of reach. I know what it’s like to have that one moment, a miracle, a letter, a twist of fate that changes everything.

And if this movement can become that moment for someone else, then every ounce of effort, every word shared, every story told, will have been worth it.

This is just the beginning. I hope you’ll be part of what comes next.