Stop Living Like a Photocopy
(Yes, you. I’m talking to you.)
Hey! it’s me, Miss Dawson, from the underground.
I came down here to stay a while - to purge, to grieve, to feel my pain.
But I can still write (and sing, check out the end of the email 😉), and I want to tell you something.
This one was born after a message I received from a subscriber named Chris.
He said he’s in his 50s, not a “beefcake,” not great at small talk.
He’s confident at work, but lately he wonders if he’s missed something…
if that spark, that intimacy, that aliveness is gone for good.
He said he doesn’t want to be the “dirty old man” for following women online, he just wants to feel human again.
Chris (I know you’re reading this), thank you 😊. Because your message is every man’s message. And this is for you, and for all the men who feel like life muted their song.
Don’t panic. Let me get into the teacher role and I’ll explain as if you’re five. (We all are most of the time, lol.)
You were born a one-off. A “Limited Edition.” One.
But life - and parents (bless their souls) - and then teachers, work, the bloody algorithm… all said: “Be normal. Fit here.”
So you shrank, behaved, and forgot your own sound.
And then… well, you’re successful-ish, happy-ish… and weirdly empty-ish.
Like a TV on mute.
Let’s un-mute you.
What I’m really saying is that every man has a song.
Not Spotify - Soul-ify.
And if you don’t sing it, you slowly go numb.
Some people call it “being realistic.” I call it conforming.
No, I’m not telling you to dump your life and buy a boat called “Miss Dawson Said It.”
I’m saying: find your voice before your battery dies.
Why You Became a Photocopy
(No shame, just facts.)
Animal-instinct wiring: we all want to belong.
Early programming: good boy = approval; true self = “too much.”
Comfort addiction: same friends, same thoughts, same chair, same feed.
Fake rebellion: you think you’re a maverick because you buy artisanal hot sauce.
What “Being Yourself” Actually Looks Like
(Not woo-woo, just human.)
Think of a tree.
The roots - keep the good stuff: values, real responsibilities.
The branches - grow out and try things that feel like you, without fear.
Both. Not either/or.
Think music.
You’re a note in a symphony.
Play your note.
Don’t steal the trumpet. Don’t pretend to be the drum.
Harmony doesn’t mean cloning.
Simple Rule (Tattoo This in Your Mind)
Who you are should drive what you do (not the other way around🙄).
If your job title ate your identity, we need a rescue mission.
People Filter (Do This Now)
Open your contacts and sort them into two buckets:
Fire-starters: they say, “Try it. I’m in.”
Fire-hoses: they say, “Who do you think you are?”
Spend your time with fire-starters.
Reply to fire-hoses: “Appreciate you,” and build a boundary.
Your song needs oxygen.
You’ll quickly see results that will surprise you.
You’ll laugh more.
You’ll say “no” without giving a TED Talk.
You’ll feel nerves and excitement (not fear).
You’ll go to bed satisfied, not just exhausted.
This isn’t about making up a new self - no.
It’s about carving off the junk that isn’t you: old rules, old beliefs, people-pleasing.
The real you is inside, hiding.
Michelangelo said he didn’t carve the angels in marble - he just liberated them.
Fucking beautiful, right?
I know, you’ll have a bunch of excuses.
(Why would I know that?🫣 Wait!… because I have them too!😖)
“I’m too old.” → You’re not food. No expiry date here.
“I don’t have time.” → You doom-scroll two hours a day. Shut up.
“What if I fail?” → Then you learn faster. Next!
Your Homework
Grab a pen and a piece of paper.
Write:
“My song might sound like: ______.”
Name it - even if it takes a month of brainstorming.
Think about it every day until it comes to you.
Then start taking little actions toward that song. Your song.
Dear friends, you don’t need a new persona or to start a social media account and dance away (unless you fancy doing that).
You just need your own permission.
Be the man who walks into a room quietly and says: “I know my note.”
Women feel that (and is massively attractive!)
Life feels that.
You feel that.
Chris - that’s what I meant when I said “find your song.”
You were born an original.
Let’s not bury you a copy.
Much love,
Rose 🖤