You’re not lucky. You’re just really good at what you do.

There’s a woman sitting alone at one of the tables in the Chicken Republic restaurant this afternoon.

Shes at least in her mid 30’s, wearing a simple grey dress. She’s probably what you’d call strikingly pretty, but the image is ruined by the fact that her eyes are puffy red and there’s a deep flush to her face.

She’s been crying.

Every 5 minutes or so she flips over her phone on the table, looks at something and starts sobbing again. It’s silent but bitter; there’s no sound coming from her lips but you can hear her heart breaking clear across the room.

Almost nobody in the fast food restaurant has noticed, or if they have, they really don’t care. Lagos is already muggy but this afternoon. The sun is winking off the fake chrome on the cars in the parking lot. Traffic ebbs and flows outside the window. Inside, the old flatscreen TV is playing a hit from 3 years ago.

The woman flips her phone over again. She bites her lower lip so hard the skin breaks, and a red spot blossoms like a flower.

I’d been standing at the corner of the counter, watching her for the past 20 minutes. That’s how long I’ve been waiting for the guys to correct my order they messed up, and I went from pissed off to bored, tired of doom scrolling on my phone. She caught my eye.

I tried to imagine what she was looking at.

It was hard to see from here, but it wasn’t a picture. Even across the distance I could make out the arranged pattern of text.

A message.

A breakup message? Maybe.

There was a morbid fascination in watching her anguish happen in the corner of that busy room. Like a star collapsing in a supernova in space and not making a sound, it seemed wrong somehow.

I was contemplating walking over. I had no idea what I would say, but it seemed like the human thing to do. Or was it too forward? I dunno if I’d want anyone to come talk to me while my world was falling apart.

The lady at the counter put my new order on the table with another apology. I didn’t even check it. Something was happening with the crying lady.

She had stopped crying. Just sat up a little straighter with eyes still glimmering wet and stopped. The look in her eyes frightened me a little, like she was looking but not seeing anything.

And then she looked right at me.

And just as she reached into her bag, the last thought that crossed my mind before everyone in the room started to scream was

“She was crying for all of us.”

***

Even though writing comes easy to me, I would never describe my ability to write as “lucky.”

I’ve always had a hyperactive imagination, but more importantly, I’ve honed the skill of translating those thoughts into words. I became good at it the way most people do: through trial, error, and relentless practice. Yet, I’ve noticed a tendency to attribute skill to luck.

Let’s call it the “Accidental Genius Syndrome.”

Maybe it stems from insecurity, a lack of understanding of our own abilities. Or maybe it’s a misguided attempt at humility.

But here’s the truth: you’re not lucky, you’re just really good at what you do. You’ve put in the work, honed your craft, and developed a unique skillset. And it’s so important to own it.

Owning your ability is more than just positive assertion. It builds your confidence.

Confidence gives you audacity. Audacity is how you take big swings in life.

Taking big swings is how we achieve the things we never believed we could.

So the next time you find yourself repeatedly getting something right, don’t attribute it to luck. Don’t sell yourself short.

You’re good at what you do. Now let’s work on getting better. 💪🏾

***

And if you’re struggling to translate your thoughts into compelling stories, I’ve got you covered. I’m working on a new course that will teach you how to use storytelling to connect with your audience, build your brand, and achieve your goals.

Think of it as your crash course in becoming a captivating communicator. We’ll dive deep into the elements of storytelling, learn how to craft narratives that resonate, and discover the secrets to writing with clarity, confidence, and personality.

Want to be the first to know when it launches? Join the waiting list right here!

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