Ruth

It’s a good day to Market your skills aggressively. Please are-introduce yourself and tell us what you do. Your next client is watching👨🏽‍💻👏🏾 I’m Ronald Pm & Product marketing manager. You?

Virtual Assistants and Social Media Managers, You’re not losing opportunities because you’re not skilled. Most times, you’re losing them because you can’t prove it. So here’s what I want to do for you: For the next 15 days, I’ll guide you through 15 mock projects you can add to your portfolio. No fluff, Just real tasks + clear guidance so you can confidently say, "I’ve done this before." If I show up for you, will you show up for yourself? Reply "I’m in" if you’re interested.

Unpopular Opinion: None of the jobs on LinkedIn are actually hiring.

I became a father yesterday. My wife did this without an epidural. I watched her suffer in ways I will never fully comprehend, carrying a weight I could not share no matter how I tried. For nine months, I was present but powerless. Pregnancy forced me to confront something modern life constantly tries to erase: you must wait. Painfully. Excruciatingly. There are no shortcuts to life. No hacks. No optimizations. Just time, and flesh, and blood. Women bear the disproportionate burden of bringing life into the world. I still don’t fully understand why. Only that it’s true, and profound, and humbling beyond words. I witnessed pain in its rawest form. À suffering that creates. That’s the poetry of it. Imperfect, brutal, but so precisely orchestrated that it cannot be coincidence. I saw Eden play out; the curse and the promise, together in one body. There is no way you witness how life begins and conclude this is random. No way you watch a body break itself open to bring forth another person and think we are here by accident, that existence is a cosmic joke. The process is too terrible, too sacred, too exactly what it needs to be. If everyone began life by witnessing a full pregnancy and labour, we would understand the weight of human existence differently. We participate in it, but we do so as children and forget. This is the passage. The one that strips away pretense and forces you to reckon with the fact that we are here for something. I always assumed fatherhood would arrive in my thirties, after I’d figured myself out as robustly as I imagined I’d want, after life had settled. Instead, it showed up at 27. No warning. No badge of readiness. Just reality. Two things haunted me throughout these nine months. The first: What is a father? For nine months, you wait for someone you do not know. You count weeks, feel kicks, watch your wife’s body transform and suffer, but the person at the center remains a mystery. I kept asking my wife, half-joking: Who the hell is this guy? He could be anyone. That realization struck me harder than expected: the sheer nothingness of human fatherhood at the start. You don’t author a child. You don’t summon him by will. You are present, but not primary. And that’s when it became clear. There is a greater Father. One who was with him in the womb when I was not. One who willed him, shaped him, knit him together before I ever felt useful. One who knew him before he was visible, before he was named, before he was handed to me. Pregnancy made that impossible to ignore. It stripped me of the illusion of control. A child is not a possession. He is a gift. And like all real gifts, he comes from Someone higher. I’ve been able to slowly understand that parenting is not ownership. It’s stewardship. Helping this little man discover his real Father. The One who loved him before the foundations of the world. And more than that, parenting is trust. Trusting that the same God who found me in my confusion and chaos will find him too. Trusting that I don’t have to be the savior to be a good father. Trusting that my role is presence, love, discipline, humility. Not replacement. I understand I am not the source. I am a signpost. And strangely, that is very freeing. Because it means I don’t have to pretend to be God. I just have to be faithful. So help me God.

I need married people to quote and reply this tweet with sweet and really thoughtful things your spouse has done for you. We need a TL cleanse from the Negative marriage PR.