I don’t believe in following the crowd. I never really have.

Much of what I write and create comes from a deep-rooted belief that we should question what we’re taught—whether it’s about society, religion, gender, or even history itself. I don’t mean this in a rebellious way for its own sake, but in the ancient, constructive sense of Cynicism: to live simply, question deeply, and seek truth through personal experience—not social expectation.

I coined the phrase Equality Without Distinction as a rejection of labels.

Whether in mental health, history, or daily life, society loves to divide us—by gender, race, class, belief. This philosophy asks: what if we stopped defining people by their category and started valuing them by their contribution?

I’ve seen this play out across life. From workplaces where age or status dictated pay, to histories where women’s voices were erased or rewritten—I chose not to accept it. Not out of defiance, but because it never made sense to me.

To me, equality means not assuming difference until proven otherwise.

My views are often called “cynical”—but I use the term in its ancient meaning:

Live simply. Question what you’re told. Pursue virtue, not wealth. Reject social pretence. Speak out, even if it’s uncomfortable.

I haven’t followed the conventional path. I’m unmarried by choice, I don’t chase titles or promotions, and I’ve never been interested in status symbols. These aren’t acts of rebellion—they’re decisions grounded in clarity. And I’m not above helping others if I have more than I need. Because that’s what it means to live by principle.

If Cynicism is the fire, then Stoicism is the framework that helps me manage uncertainty and mental health challenges.

Like many, I’ve struggled. But I’ve found strength in Stoic ideas like: focus on what you can control, accept what you cannot, and find purpose through contribution. Even modern therapies borrow from this. It’s not about suppressing emotions—it’s about managing them. It’s about acting with reason and compassion, even when the world seems irrational.

I don’t follow structured religion. But I respect faith and those who live by it.

I was lucky to grow up in a country where I wasn’t pressured to conform religiously. That freedom allowed me to observe many belief systems—and see their similarities. What troubles me isn’t faith itself, but the rigidity of dogma: the idea that only one path is right.

I leave space for the unknown. Just because I haven’t experienced something doesn’t mean it isn’t real. And just because I question something doesn’t mean I reject it outright.

I don’t believe in making myself the centre of the story. That’s why my name is small on the cover of *History Waits to Be Heard*.

This isn’t about me—it’s about the message. It’s about encouraging people to ask questions, challenge assumptions, and maybe rethink the labels we place on ourselves and others.

If this page helps even one person feel less alone in their way of thinking—or more confident in questioning the world around them—then it’s done its job.

I plan to write a full book on this philosophy: where these ideas came from, how they connect, and why they matter now more than ever. But for now, I offer this as an introduction.

If it resonates with you, I’m glad you’re here.