CL · Climber

Your result

You’re The Climber.

Overachiever who turned pleasing into a KPI.

YOUR FULL REPORT IS ON THE WAY TO YOUR EMAIL

Check your inbox in the next few minutes. Everything below is yours to keep either way.

WHAT THAT ACTUALLY MEANS

Your pleasing runs upward. You are not soft with everybody. You can be short with your team, blunt with your peers, and you’ll let a friend down without losing much sleep over it. But put somebody above you in the room, a boss, a board, an investor, the mentor whose opinion you’d never admit you’re tracking, the parent whose approval showed up stapled to a report card, and you become a different person. You get careful. You perform. You turned being valued into a number, and now you run the number up every single day, because the day you stop running it is the day you find out what you’re worth without it.

Come Stop Auditioning For A Part You Already Have

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27.

Starts the moment you buy it. One email from me every morning and one thing to do that day, in your real life, with your real people. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

Seven days. It is listed at $47 inside the membership.

THE STORY YOU TELL ABOUT IT

You’d never call this people-pleasing. People-pleasing is weak, and weak is the one thing you have never been. You call it drive. High standards. Caring more than the next guy cares. And that holds up fine in almost every room you walk into, which is exactly why nobody has ever made you look at it.

But you know how the good days actually go. You hit the thing. You get maybe an afternoon where you feel like a person. Then it resets overnight and you wake up owing again. Some part of you worked out a long time ago that no amount of it lands, and instead of sitting with that, you decided it just meant you needed a bigger one.

YOU ALREADY TOLD ME THIS

Not in the quiz. In the way you answered it.

Nobody at work has any idea. You are not dragging around the office. You’re not sulking, you’re not visibly struggling, you bring the energy into every room because that is the job and you are good at the job. And then you get home and you are done. Burnt out on the couch, streaming something you’ve already seen, in a house where the person who loves you gets whatever is left. The performance holds all day and collapses in the one place nobody’s grading it.

When the thing works, you find the reason it wasn’t you. The market turned. The investors put money in. They were being generous, they know you personally, they didn’t have other options. You have never once let credit land without checking it for structural damage first, and you’d defend every one of those explanations as accurate, and some of them are, and that’s what makes it airtight.

You have walked into a room where you were, on paper, the most accomplished person in it, and felt like the youngest one there. That has happened to you at forty. It happened at fifty. The resume never fixed it, and at some point you stopped expecting it to.

You got to the top of the last one. And there was nothing up there. Just a flat, boring stretch with nothing left to climb. And rather than sit in that for one single afternoon and find out what it had to say to you, you had the next mountain picked out by dinner.

You know the voice. It sounds like this:

If I can just...
Once this one’s done, I’ll finally...
They’re going to find out that...

Finish those however you want. You already know how they end.

YOU’VE NEVER BEEN MOTIVATED. YOU’VE ONLY EVER DONE FEAR.

Motivation is running toward something. Fear is running away from something. You have been running away this whole time, at a very impressive speed, and everyone clapped, so nobody ever asked you which one it was.

And it’s worse than that, because of what happens to the wins. Every time you build something, the person who built it was an assembly of everybody you were trying to satisfy. Your dad’s voice. A boss from nine years ago. Whoever you were proving wrong that year. So when it’s finished and it’s good, there’s nobody there to hand the credit to. That version of you doesn’t exist. That’s why the trophy goes cold in your hands within about a day, and why you burn the thing down or walk away from it and start again somewhere else, because at least building it feels like something.

You didn’t want the trophy. You wanted the warmth that only ever showed up attached to one.

AND KNOWING THAT WILL CHANGE NOTHING

You’ve read this before. Maybe not in these words, but you’ve had this thought in the shower and you’ve had it at 2am and you may well have paid a therapist to walk you around the edges of it.

Nothing changed.

Not because you didn’t understand it. You understand it better than almost anyone, you’ve got the language for it, you could teach it. It’s that at the moment it counts, on some ordinary Tuesday, you’re alone in your own head, and your head is the exact thing that built this. It talks you out of it every time and it’s very good at it, because it’s been practicing on you for thirty years.

Insight was never what you were missing.

SO HERE IS THE OFFER

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27, one time.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Seven mornings, seven assignments, each one done in your actual life with your actual people. No videos to sit through, no worksheets, no modules to fall behind on. If you miss a day you do not catch up, because yesterday is gone and today has its own thing in it. By the end you will have done something uncomfortable on purpose and found out what it actually cost you, which is almost never what you thought.

WHAT YOU GET

  • Day 1. The small unreasonable ask. A stranger, something minor, something you have no business asking for.
  • Day 2. One real truth. Say what you actually think in one conversation, and do not soften it afterward.
  • Day 3. The absurd ask. The thing you feel you have no right to want.
  • Day 4. No Day. Every request that comes at you, all day long, the answer is no.
  • Day 5. The conversation. The one you have been not having.
  • Day 6. The audit. Five questions, on paper.
  • Day 7. One rule. One sentence you do not cross.
  • Thirty days, money back. No conditions, no exit interview, no proof of homework.
  • Your $27 back off the community, if you decide afterward that you want people around this.

It is $47 inside the membership. Out here it is twenty seven dollars, and the first assignment is in your inbox before you finish your coffee.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

WHO ELSE HAS DONE THIS WORK WITH ME

”He did not collude with comfort, ego, or narratives that executives often protect under pressure.”

Christopher Morgan, CFO, Renewable Energy

”You are the secret weapon I needed when I was running my company. I’m living a life I couldn’t have even imagined a year ago.”

Glen Lortscher, Co-founder & CIO, Curology

”You make experienced leaders more effective at the moments that matter most. The return compounds.”

Private client, CEO

”I was working WAY too many hours and living in reactive mode instead of proactively drawing better lines in the sand. This was the first step that actually broke that loop.”

Shawn White, current member

I should tell you my current one-to-one roster is a CEO, a CFO, a chief operations officer and a former CEO. That work runs thirteen and a half thousand dollars a head. This is twenty seven, and it is the same material and the same week I would start them on.

THE GUARANTEE

Thirty days. Every dollar back, no conditions.

If you don’t like it, if you don’t do it, if you actually hate it, email me inside thirty days and the money goes back. No form, no exit interview, no proof of homework, and I am not going to ask you which days you skipped.

The book is called I Hope You Hate This. I meant it.

You risk twenty seven dollars, which is less than you spent this week on things you did not think about once.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

DON’T BUY THIS IF

  • You want another framework. You have enough frameworks. You have a shelf of them.
  • You want to read it and think about it. Every one of these days is a thing you do, out loud, with a person who is actually there.
  • You want it to be comfortable. It is seven days of doing the exact thing you have built a life around not doing.
  • You want to do it perfectly. There is no way to win this week and nothing to put on a scoreboard.

Buy it if you are willing to be bad at something on purpose for a week.

THE STUFF YOU’RE ALREADY THINKING

”Twenty-seven dollars, what do I actually get?” Seven emails and seven assignments, one each morning, starting the day you buy. That is the whole thing, and it is small on purpose. The last product you bought was bigger and you did not finish it.

”I don’t have time.” The longest assignment takes about twelve minutes. The shortest is one sentence. If you cannot find fifteen minutes a day for seven days to break something that has cost you years, you are not too busy, you are comfortable.

”What if I miss a day?” Then you miss a day. Nothing catches up, nothing unlocks, nothing scolds you. Do the next one.

”Is this the same thing that’s inside the membership?” Yes. Inside it is listed at $47. Out here it is $27, and if you join the community later that $27 comes off your first month.

”What if it doesn’t work?” Thirty days, money back, no conditions. You email me one line and it is done.

”Will this make me less effective?” This is the one that actually stops you, so I will answer it straight. The drive is real and it is yours and I am not taking it. What comes off is the part that runs on fear of being found out, and that part is burning fuel you need. People do not get worse at their jobs when they stop needing everyone above them to be pleased.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

LAST THING

A guy I work with, runs a company, took a Tuesday and drove to the mountains with a Chipotle bag on the passenger seat. No reason. Nothing earned it. He told me it was a shocking recharge, and then he told me the actual point, which was that he didn’t let himself feel guilty about it. That was the win. Not the drive. The not paying for it afterward.

You can keep doing what you’re doing. It works, that’s the trap. You’ll clear the next bar and the one after that, and you’ll be fifty-eight looking at a flat piece of ground wondering who exactly you did all of it for.

Or you spend twenty-seven bucks and seven days finding out what you’re worth on a day you produced nothing.

Hope this helps.

GL · Glacier

Your result

You’re The Glacier.

Fine. Always fine. One day you will explode or die.

YOUR FULL REPORT IS ON THE WAY TO YOUR EMAIL

Check your inbox in the next few minutes. Everything below is yours to keep either way.

WHAT THAT ACTUALLY MEANS

When somebody hurts you, you don’t fight. You freeze. The door shuts, the temperature drops, and you go somewhere they can’t reach, and you wait for them to work out what they did. From the inside it feels like restraint. Like you’re the adult who didn’t make a scene. From the outside it reads like you left the building. Because you did.

Come Practice Staying Instead Of Freezing On People

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27.

Starts the moment you buy it. One email from me every morning and one thing to do that day, in your real life, with your real people. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

Seven days. It is listed at $47 inside the membership.

THE STORY YOU TELL ABOUT IT

You call it not being dramatic. Not flying off the handle like the people you grew up around. You’ve seen what happens when somebody says everything they’re feeling in the moment, and you decided a long time ago you’d rather be the one who holds it. And there’s real dignity in that, which is why you’ve never questioned it.

But you’ve noticed something and you’ve never said it to anybody. They used to ask what was wrong. They’d chase you a bit, wait you out, try to get you to open the door. Lately they don’t. They see the shutters come down and they just carry on with their evening. You got exactly what you said you wanted and it turns out you wanted them to keep asking.

YOU ALREADY TOLD ME THIS

Not in the quiz. In the way you answered it.

You have gone a full day, maybe three, in the same house as somebody, being perfectly polite, and said nothing about the thing. You passed them in the kitchen. You said fine when they asked. You were not being cruel and you’d be genuinely upset if they called it punishment, but you also knew exactly how long it had been going on.

Somebody has told you that you disappear. Those words or close to them. Your version was that you needed a minute. Their version was that you left. Both of you were describing the same evening.

You have run the conversation in the car. Full version, both sides, what you’d say and what they’d say back, sharp and clear and completely fair to you. And then you walked in the door and said nothing, because saying it out loud with your actual voice is a different thing entirely.

You have decided somebody was done, on your own, without telling them. No conversation, no announcement. You just moved them one column over, and they went on being your friend for another eight months with no idea the file had been closed.

You know the voice. It sounds like this:

If they can’t work out what they did...
I’m not going to be the one who...
It’s not worth the...

You already know how those end. You’ve ended them a thousand times.

YOU’RE NOT IN CONTROL. YOU’RE HIDING.

The freeze feels like power because it’s the one move where you decide when it’s over. Nobody can make you speak. That’s the whole appeal and it’s the only kind of control you were ever handed.

But look at what it’s actually doing. If you’re hiding, then you’re the hunted. Somebody’s out there looking for you and you’ve built a life around not being found. And the second you turn around and face the hunter, there’s no game left. That’s it. That’s the entire thing.

Fear is the only thing in life that gets smaller the closer you get to it. Everything else grows. Fear shrinks. And you have spent years backing away from a thing that would have shrunk if you’d walked at it, and calling that being reasonable.

AND KNOWING THAT WILL CHANGE NOTHING

You’ve had this exact thought. Probably in the car, probably mid-freeze, probably with a very clear view of what you should walk in and say.

Nothing changed.

Not because you don’t understand it. You understand it better than the person waiting on you. It’s that at the moment it counts, when the temperature drops and your throat closes, you’re alone in your own head, and your head is the exact thing that built this. It talks you out of it every time. It always has a good reason, and the reason is always that this particular moment isn’t the right one.

Insight was never what you were missing.

SO HERE IS THE OFFER

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27, one time.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Seven mornings, seven assignments, each one done in your actual life with your actual people. No videos to sit through, no worksheets, no modules to fall behind on. If you miss a day you do not catch up, because yesterday is gone and today has its own thing in it. By the end you will have done something uncomfortable on purpose and found out what it actually cost you, which is almost never what you thought.

WHAT YOU GET

  • Day 1. The small unreasonable ask. A stranger, something minor, something you have no business asking for.
  • Day 2. One real truth. Say what you actually think in one conversation, and do not soften it afterward.
  • Day 3. The absurd ask. The thing you feel you have no right to want.
  • Day 4. No Day. Every request that comes at you, all day long, the answer is no.
  • Day 5. The conversation. The one you have been not having.
  • Day 6. The audit. Five questions, on paper.
  • Day 7. One rule. One sentence you do not cross.
  • Thirty days, money back. No conditions, no exit interview, no proof of homework.
  • Your $27 back off the community, if you decide afterward that you want people around this.

It is $47 inside the membership. Out here it is twenty seven dollars, and the first assignment is in your inbox before you finish your coffee.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

WHO ELSE HAS DONE THIS WORK WITH ME

”Trust Nick and his tasks. He’ll trigger the shit out of you and you’ll come out more free than you’ve ever been. This course cracked my stagnated life. The best gift I’ve given myself.”

Anton Aleksandrov, current member

”As I sit here trying to think of something witty to say, it’s just raw emotion. There’s been a huge shift. Everything just feels different.”

William Zayas, current member

”I’ve read every book and tried every system. Nothing stuck. This was different. It made me look at myself and supported me through it. In the simplest form, it showed me I can be me, and that’s okay.”

Kim Troyer, current member

THE GUARANTEE

Thirty days. Every dollar back, no conditions.

If you don’t like it, if you don’t do it, if you actually hate it, email me inside thirty days and the money goes back. No form, no exit interview, no proof of homework, and I am not going to ask you which days you skipped.

The book is called I Hope You Hate This. I meant it.

You risk nothing, and asking for it back is one line in an email. Nobody makes you have a conversation about why.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

DON’T BUY THIS IF

  • You want another framework. You have enough frameworks. You have a shelf of them.
  • You want to read it and think about it. Every one of these days is a thing you do, out loud, with a person who is actually there.
  • You want it to be comfortable. It is seven days of doing the exact thing you have built a life around not doing.
  • You want to get through it without talking to anybody. Two of the seven days need your actual voice.

Buy it if you are willing to be bad at something on purpose for a week.

THE STUFF YOU’RE ALREADY THINKING

”Twenty-seven dollars, what do I actually get?” Seven emails and seven assignments, one each morning, starting the day you buy. That is the whole thing, and it is small on purpose. The last product you bought was bigger and you did not finish it.

”I don’t have time.” The longest assignment takes about twelve minutes. The shortest is one sentence. If you cannot find fifteen minutes a day for seven days to break something that has cost you years, you are not too busy, you are comfortable.

”What if I miss a day?” Then you miss a day. Nothing catches up, nothing unlocks, nothing scolds you. Do the next one.

”Is this the same thing that’s inside the membership?” Yes. Inside it is listed at $47. Out here it is $27, and if you join the community later that $27 comes off your first month.

”What if it doesn’t work?” Thirty days, money back, no conditions. You email me one line and it is done.

”Do I have to talk to people?” Day 2 and Day 5, yes. Those are the two that will look like exactly the thing you have organized your whole life around not doing. That is not a bug I have to talk you past, that is the product. You already ran the experiment where you go silent and wait to be figured out.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

LAST THING

The freeze works. That’s what makes it so hard to give up. It ends the conversation, it protects you, and nobody can make you do anything.

It also empties the room, one person at a time, slowly enough that you can always tell yourself it was them.

Or you spend twenty-seven bucks and seven days practicing staying.

Hope this helps.

CC · Covert Contractor

Your result

You’re The Covert Contractor.

Does things you didn’t ask for. Keeps invisible receipts.

YOUR FULL REPORT IS ON THE WAY TO YOUR EMAIL

Check your inbox in the next few minutes. Everything below is yours to keep either way.

WHAT THAT ACTUALLY MEANS

You keep a ledger nobody else signed. You do the favor, you remember the favor, and then you wait. Not out loud. You’d never bring it up, bringing it up would ruin it. You just wait, and when it doesn’t come back you say nothing and move that person one column over, and the balance sits there earning interest. The contract was real to you. You just never showed it to the other side, so they’ve been in breach of an agreement they were never handed.

Come Put The Scoreboard Down Where Somebody Can See It

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27.

Starts the moment you buy it. One email from me every morning and one thing to do that day, in your real life, with your real people. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

Seven days. It is listed at $47 inside the membership.

THE STORY YOU TELL ABOUT IT

You call it being generous. Thoughtful. The person who notices what needs doing and does it without being asked, which is genuinely rare and genuinely valuable, and people have told you so for years.

But you know what happens in your chest when they don’t reciprocate. It has teeth in it. It arrives fast and it stays. And somewhere in there you’ve noticed that a person who was actually giving freely would not be able to produce the running total from eleven months ago on demand. You can. You could do it right now, for at least two people, without checking anything.

YOU ALREADY TOLD ME THIS

Not in the quiz. In the way you answered it.

You have done a favor nobody asked for and then felt worse afterward. You noticed the thing, you handled it, you didn’t mention it. And then you waited to see if they’d notice you’d handled it, and they didn’t, and the whole day tilted.

You can name the exact amount somebody owes you. Not money. The other kind. You know what you did, when you did it, and what you got back, and you could itemize it, and you have never once said any of it to their face.

You’ve caught yourself getting resentful mid-favor. Actually while doing the nice thing. Loading their dishwasher, covering their shift, and there it is, this thin hot line of anger at a person who is not in the room and did not ask.

You’ve dropped a hint instead of making a request. You mentioned it sideways. You said it in a tone. You made the suggestion and expected it to be honored like an instruction, and when it wasn’t, you filed that too.

You know the voice. It sounds like this:

After everything I’ve...
I would never have made them...
If they actually cared they’d just...

You know how those end. You’ve been ending them silently for years.

THEY SHOULD KNOW WHAT YOU WANT. THEY DON’T.

This is where people like us get screwed up. We say things like, well, they should know. And they don’t. They don’t. They are not being callous and they’re not pretending. They genuinely do not know, because the only place the agreement exists is inside your head.

So let me say the whole thing plainly, because it’s the definition of the pattern you just scored highest on: people-pleasing is expecting things of other people, and then resenting them when they don’t do it, and never telling them about it.

Read that again with your ledger open.

They will never work as hard as you. They will never care as much as you. That’s not a character flaw in them, that’s just true of nearly everybody, and you built a scoring system that guarantees every single person in your life eventually fails it.

AND KNOWING THAT WILL CHANGE NOTHING

You’ve had this thought. Probably right after a birthday, or a holiday, or a hospital week where you did all of it and somebody said thanks in a way that didn’t land.

Nothing changed.

Not because you don’t understand it. You understand it perfectly, you can even laugh about it. It’s that at the moment it counts, when you could open your mouth and ask for the thing plainly, you’re alone in your own head, and your head is the exact thing that built this. It tells you that asking would spoil it. That if you have to ask, it doesn’t count. That’s the sentence that keeps the whole machine running, and it’s a lie you inherited from somebody.

Insight was never what you were missing.

SO HERE IS THE OFFER

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27, one time.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Seven mornings, seven assignments, each one done in your actual life with your actual people. No videos to sit through, no worksheets, no modules to fall behind on. If you miss a day you do not catch up, because yesterday is gone and today has its own thing in it. By the end you will have done something uncomfortable on purpose and found out what it actually cost you, which is almost never what you thought.

WHAT YOU GET

  • Day 1. The small unreasonable ask. A stranger, something minor, something you have no business asking for.
  • Day 2. One real truth. Say what you actually think in one conversation, and do not soften it afterward.
  • Day 3. The absurd ask. The thing you feel you have no right to want.
  • Day 4. No Day. Every request that comes at you, all day long, the answer is no.
  • Day 5. The conversation. The one you have been not having.
  • Day 6. The audit. Five questions, on paper.
  • Day 7. One rule. One sentence you do not cross.
  • Thirty days, money back. No conditions, no exit interview, no proof of homework.
  • Your $27 back off the community, if you decide afterward that you want people around this.

It is $47 inside the membership. Out here it is twenty seven dollars, and the first assignment is in your inbox before you finish your coffee.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

WHO ELSE HAS DONE THIS WORK WITH ME

”Trust Nick and his tasks. He’ll trigger the shit out of you and you’ll come out more free than you’ve ever been. This course cracked my stagnated life. The best gift I’ve given myself.”

Anton Aleksandrov, current member

”I’ve read every book and tried every system. Nothing stuck. This was different. It made me look at myself and supported me through it. In the simplest form, it showed me I can be me, and that’s okay.”

Kim Troyer, current member

”I was working WAY too many hours and living in reactive mode instead of proactively drawing better lines in the sand. This was the first step that actually broke that loop.”

Shawn White, current member

THE GUARANTEE

Thirty days. Every dollar back, no conditions.

If you don’t like it, if you don’t do it, if you actually hate it, email me inside thirty days and the money goes back. No form, no exit interview, no proof of homework, and I am not going to ask you which days you skipped.

The book is called I Hope You Hate This. I meant it.

You risk nothing, and if you ask for it back there is no favor owed in either direction. Clean ledger, which for you is the part that matters.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

DON’T BUY THIS IF

  • You want another framework. You have enough frameworks. You have a shelf of them.
  • You want to read it and think about it. Every one of these days is a thing you do, out loud, with a person who is actually there.
  • You want it to be comfortable. It is seven days of doing the exact thing you have built a life around not doing.
  • You want credit for doing it. Nobody is going to notice, and that is rather the point.

Buy it if you are willing to be bad at something on purpose for a week.

THE STUFF YOU’RE ALREADY THINKING

”Twenty-seven dollars, what do I actually get?” Seven emails and seven assignments, one each morning, starting the day you buy. That is the whole thing, and it is small on purpose. The last product you bought was bigger and you did not finish it.

”I don’t have time.” The longest assignment takes about twelve minutes. The shortest is one sentence. If you cannot find fifteen minutes a day for seven days to break something that has cost you years, you are not too busy, you are comfortable.

”What if I miss a day?” Then you miss a day. Nothing catches up, nothing unlocks, nothing scolds you. Do the next one.

”Is this the same thing that’s inside the membership?” Yes. Inside it is listed at $47. Out here it is $27, and if you join the community later that $27 comes off your first month.

”What if it doesn’t work?” Thirty days, money back, no conditions. You email me one line and it is done.

”I’ve already given enough. Why am I the one paying?” Notice what just happened there. You ran the ledger, on me, in your head, and did not say it out loud. That is the exact move, and Day 3 is about asking for something instead of earning it, and it is going to feel obscene.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

LAST THING

The ledger works, in a way. It lets you feel generous and be furious at the same time, and it never requires you to say a single uncomfortable sentence out loud.

It also guarantees that every person you love eventually becomes someone who owes you, and that you’ll be the only one who ever knows why the temperature changed.

Or you spend twenty-seven bucks and seven days asking for one thing out loud.

Hope this helps.

PK · Peacekeeper

Your result

You’re The Peacekeeper.

Can see every side. Refuses to pick one.

YOUR FULL REPORT IS ON THE WAY TO YOUR EMAIL

Check your inbox in the next few minutes. Everything below is yours to keep either way.

WHAT THAT ACTUALLY MEANS

You can see every side of an argument except the one where you have a position. Tension lands in your body before it lands in the room, so you move it: you smooth it, you translate, you find the thing both people can agree on and you hand it to them. People trust you because you never make it weird. Then you drive home with a stomach full of everything you didn’t say.

Come Somewhere A Little Conflict Costs You Nothing

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27.

Starts the moment you buy it. One email from me every morning and one thing to do that day, in your real life, with your real people. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

Seven days. It is listed at $47 inside the membership.

THE STORY YOU TELL ABOUT IT

You call it being fair. Being the reasonable one, the bridge, the person who can hold two things at once when everyone else is picking teams. And you’re good at it. It’s a real skill and rooms genuinely go better when you’re in them.

But you’ve noticed nobody knows what you think. Not on the big stuff. Your family couldn’t tell me where you land on the thing that’s been tearing them up for two years, and you’ve been in every single conversation about it. You’ve become so useful at managing everyone else’s position that you stopped having one, and the word for that isn’t diplomatic.

YOU ALREADY TOLD ME THIS

Not in the quiz. In the way you answered it.

You have agreed out loud with something you think is wrong. Not a lie exactly. You just found the part you could agree with, and said that part, warmly, and let them walk away thinking you were with them.

Two people you love have gone at it and you have privately told each of them they had a point. Both conversations were sincere. Neither of them knows you had the other one.

You have physically felt a room turn. Chest, throat, the back of your neck. Before anybody raised their voice. And you started working before you decided to.

You have let something go for two years. A specific thing, one person. It comes back at odd hours with full clarity and you’ve never once put it in front of them, because the version where you say it out loud is a worse afternoon than another two years of this.

You know the voice:

It’s not worth making a...
I can see where they’re coming...
If I say it now it’ll just...

YOU’RE NOT AFRAID OF THE CONFLICT. YOU’RE AFRAID OF THE FEELING YOU’LL GET FROM THE CONFLICT.

That’s the whole thing. You’ve been calling it conflict avoidance for years and treating it like a personality trait. It isn’t the argument you’re dodging. It’s the ninety seconds after you say the sentence, when your body floods and your face goes hot and somebody’s looking at you differently.

And you can survive ninety seconds. Your emotions are very often not permanent, and they are never fatal. You’ve just never tested it, so your nervous system still thinks the sentence is the danger.

Meanwhile the room you keep saving does not need saving as badly as you think. If a person can think straight in a conflict, why would you assume everyone else can’t?

AND KNOWING THAT WILL CHANGE NOTHING

You’ve had this thought, probably in the car, probably with the sentence fully drafted.

Nothing changed.

Not because you don’t understand it. You understand every side of it, that’s your whole problem. It’s that in the moment that counts you’re alone in your own head, and your head is the exact thing that got you here. It always has a reason, and the reason is always that today isn’t the day.

Insight was never what you were missing.

SO HERE IS THE OFFER

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27, one time.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Seven mornings, seven assignments, each one done in your actual life with your actual people. No videos to sit through, no worksheets, no modules to fall behind on. If you miss a day you do not catch up, because yesterday is gone and today has its own thing in it. By the end you will have done something uncomfortable on purpose and found out what it actually cost you, which is almost never what you thought.

WHAT YOU GET

  • Day 1. The small unreasonable ask. A stranger, something minor, something you have no business asking for.
  • Day 2. One real truth. Say what you actually think in one conversation, and do not soften it afterward.
  • Day 3. The absurd ask. The thing you feel you have no right to want.
  • Day 4. No Day. Every request that comes at you, all day long, the answer is no.
  • Day 5. The conversation. The one you have been not having.
  • Day 6. The audit. Five questions, on paper.
  • Day 7. One rule. One sentence you do not cross.
  • Thirty days, money back. No conditions, no exit interview, no proof of homework.
  • Your $27 back off the community, if you decide afterward that you want people around this.

It is $47 inside the membership. Out here it is twenty seven dollars, and the first assignment is in your inbox before you finish your coffee.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

WHO ELSE HAS DONE THIS WORK WITH ME

”Trust Nick and his tasks. He’ll trigger the shit out of you and you’ll come out more free than you’ve ever been. This course cracked my stagnated life. The best gift I’ve given myself.”

Anton Aleksandrov, current member

”I’ve read every book and tried every system. Nothing stuck. This was different. It made me look at myself and supported me through it. In the simplest form, it showed me I can be me, and that’s okay.”

Kim Troyer, current member

”As I sit here trying to think of something witty to say, it’s just raw emotion. There’s been a huge shift. Everything just feels different.”

William Zayas, current member

THE GUARANTEE

Thirty days. Every dollar back, no conditions.

If you don’t like it, if you don’t do it, if you actually hate it, email me inside thirty days and the money goes back. No form, no exit interview, no proof of homework, and I am not going to ask you which days you skipped.

The book is called I Hope You Hate This. I meant it.

You risk nothing, and asking for it back will not hurt my feelings, so that is not something you have to manage on the way out.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

DON’T BUY THIS IF

  • You want another framework. You have enough frameworks. You have a shelf of them.
  • You want to read it and think about it. Every one of these days is a thing you do, out loud, with a person who is actually there.
  • You want it to be comfortable. It is seven days of doing the exact thing you have built a life around not doing.
  • You want it to stay pleasant. Day 5 is the conversation you have been avoiding.

Buy it if you are willing to be bad at something on purpose for a week.

THE STUFF YOU’RE ALREADY THINKING

”Twenty-seven dollars, what do I actually get?” Seven emails and seven assignments, one each morning, starting the day you buy. That is the whole thing, and it is small on purpose. The last product you bought was bigger and you did not finish it.

”I don’t have time.” The longest assignment takes about twelve minutes. The shortest is one sentence. If you cannot find fifteen minutes a day for seven days to break something that has cost you years, you are not too busy, you are comfortable.

”What if I miss a day?” Then you miss a day. Nothing catches up, nothing unlocks, nothing scolds you. Do the next one.

”Is this the same thing that’s inside the membership?” Yes. Inside it is listed at $47. Out here it is $27, and if you join the community later that $27 comes off your first month.

”What if it doesn’t work?” Thirty days, money back, no conditions. You email me one line and it is done.

”Won’t this start a fight?” Day 5 might. But you have never actually avoided a conflict in your life, you have deferred them, and every one of them is still sitting there in the pile you take to bed.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

LAST THING

Keeping the peace works. Rooms stay calm, nobody’s angry at you, and you get to be the good one.

It also means that in thirty years of family arguments, nobody has ever once known what you wanted, including you.

Or you spend twenty-seven bucks and seven days finding out what happens in the ninety seconds after you say it.

Hope this helps.

SP · Sponge

Your result

You’re The Sponge.

Soaks up everyone’s problems. Squeezed dry eventually.

YOUR FULL REPORT IS ON THE WAY TO YOUR EMAIL

Check your inbox in the next few minutes. Everything below is yours to keep either way.

WHAT THAT ACTUALLY MEANS

You feel other people in your own body. Somebody you love has a bad week and you carry it for two, and it isn’t a metaphor, it sits in your chest and you can point to where. You walk into a room and read its temperature before you’ve taken your coat off, and then you hold it. You’re everybody’s first call. You’re the one who gets told the thing before anyone else gets told the thing. And the day you’re the one going under, you look around and realize you never taught a single person how to hold you.

Come Somewhere You Finally Get To Take Up Space

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27.

Starts the moment you buy it. One email from me every morning and one thing to do that day, in your real life, with your real people. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

Seven days. It is listed at $47 inside the membership.

THE STORY YOU TELL ABOUT IT

You call it caring. Being close to people. Having a big heart, being the one who notices, being the safe person in a family where nobody else was safe. And every bit of that is true, which is why nobody has ever taken it off you.

But you’ve had the other thought too. The one where you’re lying there at 3am running somebody else’s fight, a fight you were not in, about a thing that isn’t yours, and you think: how am I giving away this much and getting back this little. You’ve done the math on that relationship. You know the numbers don’t work. And then somebody’s name comes up on your phone and you answer it anyway.

YOU ALREADY TOLD ME THIS

Not in the quiz. In the way you answered it.

You have stayed at something an hour and a half past when you wanted to leave, because the person asking seemed like they needed you there. You knew at eight. Somebody said one more, and you read something in their face, and you said sure. Then you sat there the rest of the night watching yourself do it. You got home late, annoyed at yourself, and told nobody, because they’d had a hard week and it would have landed on them.

You have asked what everybody wanted to eat and then gone and made it. Not once. For years. Different meals, different preferences, one kitchen, you. And nobody ever asked you what you wanted, because at some point everyone agreed that you didn’t have a preference, including you.

You can name the feeling in your chest right now and you cannot honestly tell me whose it is. You picked something up today. Off a face, off a text, off the tone of a voicemail. It walked in on somebody else and it’s been living in you for hours.

You have delayed your own life for somebody else’s crisis, and then been told you were abandoning them anyway. You waited. You got everything stable first. You made sure the handover was clean. And you still got the phone call where you were the bad guy.

You know the voice. It sounds like this:

If I don’t do it, nobody will...
They can’t handle it right now, so I’ll just...
I’ll deal with mine after...

You never do deal with yours after. There is no after. That’s the joke.

YOU’RE NOT AFRAID OF THEIR EMOTIONS. YOU’RE AFRAID OF ALL EMOTIONS.

Every time you rush in to fix how somebody feels, you’re not doing it for them. You’re doing it because their feeling in the room is intolerable to you, and moving it out of them is the fastest way to get it away from you. That’s not love. That’s you being a dumpster.

And there’s a bill for it, which is that you’ve trained everybody around you to bring it to you and leave it there. They feel lighter by morning. You’re the one still up at 3am, rerunning a fight that wasn’t yours, over a problem you were never on the hook for, and calling that being a good person.

The people who love you keep asking how you are. You say fine. You’ve said fine so many times that they stopped asking, and now you’re lonely inside a life where you’re constantly surrounded by people, and you cannot say that out loud to a single one of them.

AND KNOWING THAT WILL CHANGE NOTHING

You’ve known this for a while. You’ve probably said a version of it to a friend, and she agreed, and you both felt better, and then it was Tuesday again.

Nothing changed.

Not because you don’t understand it. You understand it better than anyone in your family. It’s that in the moment that counts, when the phone lights up and it’s her and it’s the fourth time this month, you’re alone in your own head, and your head is the exact thing that got you here. It talks you into it every time.

Insight was never what you were missing.

SO HERE IS THE OFFER

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27, one time.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Seven mornings, seven assignments, each one done in your actual life with your actual people. No videos to sit through, no worksheets, no modules to fall behind on. If you miss a day you do not catch up, because yesterday is gone and today has its own thing in it. By the end you will have done something uncomfortable on purpose and found out what it actually cost you, which is almost never what you thought.

WHAT YOU GET

  • Day 1. The small unreasonable ask. A stranger, something minor, something you have no business asking for.
  • Day 2. One real truth. Say what you actually think in one conversation, and do not soften it afterward.
  • Day 3. The absurd ask. The thing you feel you have no right to want.
  • Day 4. No Day. Every request that comes at you, all day long, the answer is no.
  • Day 5. The conversation. The one you have been not having.
  • Day 6. The audit. Five questions, on paper.
  • Day 7. One rule. One sentence you do not cross.
  • Thirty days, money back. No conditions, no exit interview, no proof of homework.
  • Your $27 back off the community, if you decide afterward that you want people around this.

It is $47 inside the membership. Out here it is twenty seven dollars, and the first assignment is in your inbox before you finish your coffee.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

WHO ELSE HAS DONE THIS WORK WITH ME

”Trust Nick and his tasks. He’ll trigger the shit out of you and you’ll come out more free than you’ve ever been. This course cracked my stagnated life. The best gift I’ve given myself.”

Anton Aleksandrov, current member

”I’ve read every book and tried every system. Nothing stuck. This was different. It made me look at myself and supported me through it. In the simplest form, it showed me I can be me, and that’s okay.”

Kim Troyer, current member

”As I sit here trying to think of something witty to say, it’s just raw emotion. There’s been a huge shift. Everything just feels different.”

William Zayas, current member

”I was working WAY too many hours and living in reactive mode instead of proactively drawing better lines in the sand. This was the first step that actually broke that loop.”

Shawn White, current member

THE GUARANTEE

Thirty days. Every dollar back, no conditions.

If you don’t like it, if you don’t do it, if you actually hate it, email me inside thirty days and the money goes back. No form, no exit interview, no proof of homework, and I am not going to ask you which days you skipped.

The book is called I Hope You Hate This. I meant it.

You risk nothing, and you do not have to explain yourself to get it back. For you that was always the harder part.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

DON’T BUY THIS IF

  • You want another framework. You have enough frameworks. You have a shelf of them.
  • You want to read it and think about it. Every one of these days is a thing you do, out loud, with a person who is actually there.
  • You want it to be comfortable. It is seven days of doing the exact thing you have built a life around not doing.
  • You want to do it for somebody else. This one is only yours, and that is the part you will struggle with.

Buy it if you are willing to be bad at something on purpose for a week.

THE STUFF YOU’RE ALREADY THINKING

”Twenty-seven dollars, what do I actually get?” Seven emails and seven assignments, one each morning, starting the day you buy. That is the whole thing, and it is small on purpose. The last product you bought was bigger and you did not finish it.

”I don’t have time.” The longest assignment takes about twelve minutes. The shortest is one sentence. If you cannot find fifteen minutes a day for seven days to break something that has cost you years, you are not too busy, you are comfortable.

”What if I miss a day?” Then you miss a day. Nothing catches up, nothing unlocks, nothing scolds you. Do the next one.

”Is this the same thing that’s inside the membership?” Yes. Inside it is listed at $47. Out here it is $27, and if you join the community later that $27 comes off your first month.

”What if it doesn’t work?” Thirty days, money back, no conditions. You email me one line and it is done.

”Isn’t this selfish?” No, and you knew that before you typed it. You spent forty minutes this week carrying somebody else’s week for free. Fifteen minutes a day for seven days is a fraction of what you hand out to people who did not ask and will not remember.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

LAST THING

You can keep going. You’re good at it, that’s the problem. You’ll absorb the next one and the one after that, and one day you’ll be the one who needs holding and you’ll look around a room full of people you carried and understand that you never taught a single one of them how.

Or you spend twenty-seven bucks and seven days practicing putting one thing down.

Hope this helps.

CH · Chameleon

Your result

You’re The Chameleon.

Becomes whoever the room needs.

YOUR FULL REPORT IS ON THE WAY TO YOUR EMAIL

Check your inbox in the next few minutes. Everything below is yours to keep either way.

WHAT THAT ACTUALLY MEANS

You read a room in about three seconds and become what it wants. Warmer here, drier there, louder with those two, careful with that one. A different voice for your mother than for your boss than for the guy at the gym, and none of them are fake exactly, they’re all you, just the cut of you that fits the doorway. It makes you very easy to like and almost impossible to know. They don’t know the real you. Most days neither do you.

Come Find Out Who You Are When You Stop Matching The Room

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27.

Starts the moment you buy it. One email from me every morning and one thing to do that day, in your real life, with your real people. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

Seven days. It is listed at $47 inside the membership.

THE STORY YOU TELL ABOUT IT

You call it being adaptable. Emotionally intelligent. Good with people, which you are, genuinely, in a way that other people find almost supernatural. You’ve been told you can talk to anyone. You can.

But you’ve had the other thought, alone, usually late. Somebody asks what you want for dinner and there’s a half-second where you have to go looking, because the answer isn’t sitting where it should be. You’ve built a person for every room and you can’t find the one that doesn’t have an audience. And the worst part isn’t the effort. It’s that when somebody says they love you, part of you files it under they love the one I did for them.

YOU ALREADY TOLD ME THIS

Not in the quiz. In the way you answered it.

Your voice changes and you can hear it happening. Pitch, pace, the words you pick. You’ve caught yourself mid-sentence sounding like the person you’re talking to, and you kept going, because stopping would have been stranger.

You can tell me what somebody wanted to hear and not what you felt. Ask you how a hard conversation went and you’ll give me a precise read on their state, their mood, what they needed. Ask what you felt and there’s a pause. You’ve got no instrument for that because you never needed one.

You have been two different people in one day and not found it strange until now. Morning version, afternoon version. Different jokes, different opinions, both sincere at the time.

You dread the group where the circles overlap. Wedding, funeral, birthday, the one where work people and family and the old friends are all in the same room. Not because you don’t like them. Because there’s no single version of you that survives all three at once, and you’ll spend the whole night rotating.

You know the voice:

They’d probably rather I...
What does this room need me to...
I’ll figure out who I am once...

EVERYBODY LIKES YOU. NOBODY KNOWS YOU. YOU ARRANGED THAT.

Not as a con. As a survival move, probably very young, in a house where the safest thing you could be was whatever kept the temperature steady. You got extraordinarily good at it and it worked, and it’s still running twenty, thirty, forty years after the danger left the building.

So here’s the bill. You cannot be loved for a performance. You can be liked for it, admired for it, invited everywhere for it. But the thing you actually want, the thing you’ve wanted since you were small, requires somebody to see the version you don’t rehearse. And you have never once shown that to anybody, so the loneliness you feel in a room full of people who adore you is not a mystery. It’s arithmetic.

AND KNOWING THAT WILL CHANGE NOTHING

You already know all of this. You’ve probably said a cleaner version of it to a therapist.

Nothing changed.

Not because you don’t understand it. You’re the most self-aware person in most rooms you enter. It’s that in the moment that counts, when the door opens and you scan the faces, the adjustment happens before you get a vote. It’s not a decision. It’s a reflex older than your opinions.

Insight was never what you were missing.

SO HERE IS THE OFFER

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27, one time.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Seven mornings, seven assignments, each one done in your actual life with your actual people. No videos to sit through, no worksheets, no modules to fall behind on. If you miss a day you do not catch up, because yesterday is gone and today has its own thing in it. By the end you will have done something uncomfortable on purpose and found out what it actually cost you, which is almost never what you thought.

WHAT YOU GET

  • Day 1. The small unreasonable ask. A stranger, something minor, something you have no business asking for.
  • Day 2. One real truth. Say what you actually think in one conversation, and do not soften it afterward.
  • Day 3. The absurd ask. The thing you feel you have no right to want.
  • Day 4. No Day. Every request that comes at you, all day long, the answer is no.
  • Day 5. The conversation. The one you have been not having.
  • Day 6. The audit. Five questions, on paper.
  • Day 7. One rule. One sentence you do not cross.
  • Thirty days, money back. No conditions, no exit interview, no proof of homework.
  • Your $27 back off the community, if you decide afterward that you want people around this.

It is $47 inside the membership. Out here it is twenty seven dollars, and the first assignment is in your inbox before you finish your coffee.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

WHO ELSE HAS DONE THIS WORK WITH ME

”Trust Nick and his tasks. He’ll trigger the shit out of you and you’ll come out more free than you’ve ever been. This course cracked my stagnated life. The best gift I’ve given myself.”

Anton Aleksandrov, current member

”I’ve read every book and tried every system. Nothing stuck. This was different. It made me look at myself and supported me through it. In the simplest form, it showed me I can be me, and that’s okay.”

Kim Troyer, current member

”As I sit here trying to think of something witty to say, it’s just raw emotion. There’s been a huge shift. Everything just feels different.”

William Zayas, current member

Kim’s line is the one to read twice if you’re a Chameleon.

THE GUARANTEE

Thirty days. Every dollar back, no conditions.

If you don’t like it, if you don’t do it, if you actually hate it, email me inside thirty days and the money goes back. No form, no exit interview, no proof of homework, and I am not going to ask you which days you skipped.

The book is called I Hope You Hate This. I meant it.

You risk nothing, and you will not have to build a version of yourself who explains why.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

DON’T BUY THIS IF

  • You want another framework. You have enough frameworks. You have a shelf of them.
  • You want to read it and think about it. Every one of these days is a thing you do, out loud, with a person who is actually there.
  • You want it to be comfortable. It is seven days of doing the exact thing you have built a life around not doing.
  • You want to know who you will be at the end of it. You will not, and that is the week working.

Buy it if you are willing to be bad at something on purpose for a week.

THE STUFF YOU’RE ALREADY THINKING

”Twenty-seven dollars, what do I actually get?” Seven emails and seven assignments, one each morning, starting the day you buy. That is the whole thing, and it is small on purpose. The last product you bought was bigger and you did not finish it.

”I don’t have time.” The longest assignment takes about twelve minutes. The shortest is one sentence. If you cannot find fifteen minutes a day for seven days to break something that has cost you years, you are not too busy, you are comfortable.

”What if I miss a day?” Then you miss a day. Nothing catches up, nothing unlocks, nothing scolds you. Do the next one.

”Is this the same thing that’s inside the membership?” Yes. Inside it is listed at $47. Out here it is $27, and if you join the community later that $27 comes off your first month.

”What if it doesn’t work?” Thirty days, money back, no conditions. You email me one line and it is done.

”Which version of me is supposed to do this?” That is not a question, that is the diagnosis, and it is why Day 2 is the one that will hurt. Saying what you actually think requires knowing what you actually think, and you have not checked in a long time.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

LAST THING

Being whoever the room needs works. You’re welcome everywhere, you’re good at your job, and no one has ever been uncomfortable around you.

It also means that at your own funeral, eleven people would describe eleven different men, and not one of them would be talking about you.

Or you spend twenty-seven bucks and seven days finding out who’s there when you stop matching.

Hope this helps.

AP · Apologist

Your result

You’re The Apologist.

Sorry. Sorry about that. Sorry for apologising.

YOUR FULL REPORT IS ON THE WAY TO YOUR EMAIL

Check your inbox in the next few minutes. Everything below is yours to keep either way.

WHAT THAT ACTUALLY MEANS

Sorry is your reflex, not your opinion. You apologize for the weather, for the traffic, for taking up a seat you paid for, for other people walking into you. One piece of criticism rents a room in your head for a week and redecorates. You’ve made yourself so agreeable that people have forgotten you have edges, and then you resent them for forgetting, which you also feel bad about.

Come Practice Taking The Space You Keep Apologizing For

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27.

Starts the moment you buy it. One email from me every morning and one thing to do that day, in your real life, with your real people. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

Seven days. It is listed at $47 inside the membership.

THE STORY YOU TELL ABOUT IT

You call it being considerate. Low maintenance. Easy to be around, which you are, and people do genuinely relax around you because you have never once made anything harder for anybody.

But you know what happened last Tuesday. Somebody said one slightly cool thing to you and you have been holding it since. You’ve replayed it, you’ve worked out what you did, you’ve drafted the fix. And you know how much of your life this costs, because the small thing is never small for you, and you have never been able to explain that to anyone without it sounding insane.

YOU ALREADY TOLD ME THIS

Not in the quiz. In the way you answered it.

You have apologized to an object. A door frame. A chair you bumped. You said it out loud and there was nobody there.

You have said sorry twice for the same nothing. Once as a reflex, then again for having said it, and then you felt the third one coming and swallowed it.

A single sentence of criticism has cost you a night’s sleep. Not a review, not a firing. One sentence, delivered mildly, possibly not even about you. You can still quote it.

You have apologized when the other person was wrong. They bumped you, they were late, they got it wrong, and you got there first with sorry, because sorry ends it and ending it was worth more to you than being right.

You know the voice:

Sorry, I know you’re busy but...
No worries if not...
Sorry, this is probably a stupid...

YOU’RE NOT BEING POLITE. YOU’RE ASKING PERMISSION TO EXIST.

Every one of those sorries is a small payment. You put one down before you speak, before you ask, before you take the space you already have a right to, and you’ve made so many of these payments that you no longer notice the currency leaving.

Look at what it does to the people who love you. Your apology asks them for something. It asks them to say no no, you’re fine, don’t worry. Every single time. You have trained the room to reassure you, dozens of times a day, and then you feel like a burden, which produces another apology, which asks for more reassurance.

Your emotions are very often not permanent, and they are never fatal. That sentence of criticism you’re still carrying was survivable inside the first ten minutes. You just never let it finish.

AND KNOWING THAT WILL CHANGE NOTHING

You know. You’ve probably tried counting them. Somebody in your life has already told you to stop apologizing, which made you apologize.

Nothing changed.

Not because you don’t understand it. You’ve thought about this more than anyone around you has. It’s that in the moment that counts, the word is out of your mouth before the thought arrives. It isn’t a decision. It’s a reflex with thirty years of reps behind it, and reflexes don’t respond to information.

Insight was never what you were missing.

SO HERE IS THE OFFER

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27, one time.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Seven mornings, seven assignments, each one done in your actual life with your actual people. No videos to sit through, no worksheets, no modules to fall behind on. If you miss a day you do not catch up, because yesterday is gone and today has its own thing in it. By the end you will have done something uncomfortable on purpose and found out what it actually cost you, which is almost never what you thought.

WHAT YOU GET

  • Day 1. The small unreasonable ask. A stranger, something minor, something you have no business asking for.
  • Day 2. One real truth. Say what you actually think in one conversation, and do not soften it afterward.
  • Day 3. The absurd ask. The thing you feel you have no right to want.
  • Day 4. No Day. Every request that comes at you, all day long, the answer is no.
  • Day 5. The conversation. The one you have been not having.
  • Day 6. The audit. Five questions, on paper.
  • Day 7. One rule. One sentence you do not cross.
  • Thirty days, money back. No conditions, no exit interview, no proof of homework.
  • Your $27 back off the community, if you decide afterward that you want people around this.

It is $47 inside the membership. Out here it is twenty seven dollars, and the first assignment is in your inbox before you finish your coffee.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

WHO ELSE HAS DONE THIS WORK WITH ME

”Trust Nick and his tasks. He’ll trigger the shit out of you and you’ll come out more free than you’ve ever been. This course cracked my stagnated life. The best gift I’ve given myself.”

Anton Aleksandrov, current member

”I’ve read every book and tried every system. Nothing stuck. This was different. It made me look at myself and supported me through it. In the simplest form, it showed me I can be me, and that’s okay.”

Kim Troyer, current member

”As I sit here trying to think of something witty to say, it’s just raw emotion. There’s been a huge shift. Everything just feels different.”

William Zayas, current member

THE GUARANTEE

Thirty days. Every dollar back, no conditions.

If you don’t like it, if you don’t do it, if you actually hate it, email me inside thirty days and the money goes back. No form, no exit interview, no proof of homework, and I am not going to ask you which days you skipped.

The book is called I Hope You Hate This. I meant it.

You risk nothing, and you do not have to apologize for asking. One line, no reason given, no softening.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

DON’T BUY THIS IF

  • You want another framework. You have enough frameworks. You have a shelf of them.
  • You want to read it and think about it. Every one of these days is a thing you do, out loud, with a person who is actually there.
  • You want it to be comfortable. It is seven days of doing the exact thing you have built a life around not doing.
  • You want permission first. Nobody is going to give it to you.

Buy it if you are willing to be bad at something on purpose for a week.

THE STUFF YOU’RE ALREADY THINKING

”Twenty-seven dollars, what do I actually get?” Seven emails and seven assignments, one each morning, starting the day you buy. That is the whole thing, and it is small on purpose. The last product you bought was bigger and you did not finish it.

”I don’t have time.” The longest assignment takes about twelve minutes. The shortest is one sentence. If you cannot find fifteen minutes a day for seven days to break something that has cost you years, you are not too busy, you are comfortable.

”What if I miss a day?” Then you miss a day. Nothing catches up, nothing unlocks, nothing scolds you. Do the next one.

”Is this the same thing that’s inside the membership?” Yes. Inside it is listed at $47. Out here it is $27, and if you join the community later that $27 comes off your first month.

”What if it doesn’t work?” Thirty days, money back, no conditions. You email me one line and it is done.

”Will this make me rude?” No. Day 1 is asking a stranger for a small thing. That is it. Nothing in these seven days makes you a monster, it makes you find out you have been paying a toll nobody was charging.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

LAST THING

Apologizing works. Nobody’s ever angry at you. You’ve never taken up more than your share of anything. You are the easiest person in every room you’ve ever been in.

You’re also forty-something and still asking permission to be there.

Or you spend twenty-seven bucks and seven days taking the space you keep saying sorry for.

Hope this helps.

LG · Lifeguard

Your result

You’re The Lifeguard.

Always on duty. Watches even when nobody is drowning.

YOUR FULL REPORT IS ON THE WAY TO YOUR EMAIL

Check your inbox in the next few minutes. Everything below is yours to keep either way.

WHAT THAT ACTUALLY MEANS

At every gathering you’re the one in the kitchen. You spot who got left out of the conversation and you go stand with them. You fill the silence before it gets long. You clock the person whose drink is empty and the person whose face just changed, and you handle both. You would rather run the party than be at it. And nobody thinks to check on the lifeguard, because you trained every one of them to believe you never need saving.

Come Be The One Who Gets Pulled Out For Once

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27.

Starts the moment you buy it. One email from me every morning and one thing to do that day, in your real life, with your real people. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

Seven days. It is listed at $47 inside the membership.

THE STORY YOU TELL ABOUT IT

You call it caring. Being useful. Being the one who shows up, which you are, and people are not wrong to say it, because when it goes badly for somebody you are the first phone call and you have never once let that go to voicemail.

But you’ve noticed you can’t sit down. Not really. Twenty minutes into your own birthday you were up carrying plates. And you’ve noticed something worse, which is that you don’t fully know how to be in a relationship with somebody who doesn’t need anything from you. When there’s nothing to fix, you go looking. When somebody’s fine, you get restless. That’s the part you’ve never said out loud to anybody.

YOU ALREADY TOLD ME THIS

Not in the quiz. In the way you answered it.

You have not sat down at a party you were invited to. You had a job by the twenty minute mark, and you gave yourself that job, and it was a relief to have it.

You have jumped into an awkward moment nobody asked you to fix. Two people were having a slightly stiff exchange and you were in there filling it before anyone had actually struggled.

You have solved somebody’s problem while they were still describing it. They wanted to be heard. You had a plan by the third sentence and gave it to them, and it landed flat, and you didn’t understand why.

Nobody in your life knows what’s currently wrong with yours. Not one person could tell me. You know all of theirs. In detail. With dates.

You know the voice:

They can’t handle it right now so I’ll...
It’s easier if I just...
I’ll deal with mine once everyone’s...

NOBODY ASKED YOU TO SAVE THEM. YOU NEEDED THEM TO NEED IT.

That’s the sentence, and it’s going to be unpleasant for about a day.

The rescuing is not purely for them. It buys you a guaranteed place in the room. If you’re the one holding everybody up, nobody can leave and nobody has to choose you on purpose, because you’ve made yourself structural. That’s why being around a person who needs nothing feels so strange to you. There’s no job, so there’s no reason you’d be there, and you cannot yet imagine being wanted rather than required.

Also, most of what you’re rushing at is none of your business. Take the qualifier off the front and you’ve got the actual sentence. And there’s no such thing as an emergency. Somebody calls me and says your uncle Joe died, and I say, is he still going to be dead tomorrow morning? Alright. I’ll call you then.

AND KNOWING THAT WILL CHANGE NOTHING

You’ve had this thought. Probably at 1am after driving somebody home.

Nothing changed.

Not because you don’t understand it. You understand everybody, that’s the whole trouble. It’s that at the moment it counts, when the phone lights up, your body is already moving. It isn’t a decision. And nobody has ever asked you to stop, because your rescuing is load-bearing for about six people.

Insight was never what you were missing.

SO HERE IS THE OFFER

I Hope You Hate This: 7 Day Challenge. $27, one time.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

Seven mornings, seven assignments, each one done in your actual life with your actual people. No videos to sit through, no worksheets, no modules to fall behind on. If you miss a day you do not catch up, because yesterday is gone and today has its own thing in it. By the end you will have done something uncomfortable on purpose and found out what it actually cost you, which is almost never what you thought.

WHAT YOU GET

  • Day 1. The small unreasonable ask. A stranger, something minor, something you have no business asking for.
  • Day 2. One real truth. Say what you actually think in one conversation, and do not soften it afterward.
  • Day 3. The absurd ask. The thing you feel you have no right to want.
  • Day 4. No Day. Every request that comes at you, all day long, the answer is no.
  • Day 5. The conversation. The one you have been not having.
  • Day 6. The audit. Five questions, on paper.
  • Day 7. One rule. One sentence you do not cross.
  • Thirty days, money back. No conditions, no exit interview, no proof of homework.
  • Your $27 back off the community, if you decide afterward that you want people around this.

It is $47 inside the membership. Out here it is twenty seven dollars, and the first assignment is in your inbox before you finish your coffee.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

WHO ELSE HAS DONE THIS WORK WITH ME

”Trust Nick and his tasks. He’ll trigger the shit out of you and you’ll come out more free than you’ve ever been. This course cracked my stagnated life. The best gift I’ve given myself.”

Anton Aleksandrov, current member

”I’ve read every book and tried every system. Nothing stuck. This was different. It made me look at myself and supported me through it. In the simplest form, it showed me I can be me, and that’s okay.”

Kim Troyer, current member

”I was working WAY too many hours and living in reactive mode instead of proactively drawing better lines in the sand. This was the first step that actually broke that loop.”

Shawn White, current member

THE GUARANTEE

Thirty days. Every dollar back, no conditions.

If you don’t like it, if you don’t do it, if you actually hate it, email me inside thirty days and the money goes back. No form, no exit interview, no proof of homework, and I am not going to ask you which days you skipped.

The book is called I Hope You Hate This. I meant it.

You risk nothing, and nobody is going to ask you to stay and help first.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

DON’T BUY THIS IF

  • You want another framework. You have enough frameworks. You have a shelf of them.
  • You want to read it and think about it. Every one of these days is a thing you do, out loud, with a person who is actually there.
  • You want it to be comfortable. It is seven days of doing the exact thing you have built a life around not doing.
  • You want to send it to somebody who needs it more. Send it to them after. Do it yourself first.

Buy it if you are willing to be bad at something on purpose for a week.

THE STUFF YOU’RE ALREADY THINKING

”Twenty-seven dollars, what do I actually get?” Seven emails and seven assignments, one each morning, starting the day you buy. That is the whole thing, and it is small on purpose. The last product you bought was bigger and you did not finish it.

”I don’t have time.” The longest assignment takes about twelve minutes. The shortest is one sentence. If you cannot find fifteen minutes a day for seven days to break something that has cost you years, you are not too busy, you are comfortable.

”What if I miss a day?” Then you miss a day. Nothing catches up, nothing unlocks, nothing scolds you. Do the next one.

”Is this the same thing that’s inside the membership?” Yes. Inside it is listed at $47. Out here it is $27, and if you join the community later that $27 comes off your first month.

”What if it doesn’t work?” Thirty days, money back, no conditions. You email me one line and it is done.

”Shouldn’t I give this to somebody who needs it more?” There it is. You can justify any expense on earth for another person and none for yourself, and you have built an entire life around never being the one who needs something.

Start the Challenge · $27 →

$27, one time. Thirty days, money back, no conditions.

LAST THING

Being the lifeguard works. You’re indispensable, you’re loved, and you never have to sit still long enough to notice what’s missing.

It also means that when you go under, and everybody does eventually, you’ll look around at a room full of people you carried and understand that you never taught a single one of them how to hold you.

Or you spend twenty-seven bucks and seven days getting pulled out.

Hope this helps.