Can we take a moment to talk about the time a drug dealer tried to sell Tim and I some weed in Vegas?


Of course. It was Vegas.


But I did something I never do: I told the guy to fuck off.


There was no “Oh why, thank you for asking but we’re ok thanks. Sorry!”


I’m a notorious apologiser. Like the time two weeks ago when I ordered a caesar salad and the lettuce was bitter as fuck and I couldn’t eat it and when I left it mostly uneaten and the waiter said ‘oh you didn’t like it’ and I replied; ‘Oh no, it was fine. I just wasn’t hungry sorry!”. Then my father was all up in my grill about not giving them my honest thoughts.


Sorry Dad.


Fuck. I did it again.


I apologise way too much. I’m working on it.


But that Vegas drug dealer unleashed the inner ninja in me. He simply wouldn’t get the hint – even after we said no three times and continued to walk away from him. The only way to get what I wanted was to actually say what I wanted with conviction.


And that’s what matters – saying what you want with conviction.


What you think. With conviction.

What you know. With conviction.


Too often I see smart women bite their lips press delete on their real opinions. They opt for the balanced argument approach. 




Easy does it.


And it doesn’t land because there’s no punches being thrown.


Tell us what you really think.


Tell us what you know.


Inject the appropriate level of enthusiasm or rage with appropriate being how much you’re really feeling.


And say it in such a way that we’ll sit up and listen.