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I’m writing this to those of you who know the real stakes of the work we do. You’ve been in the field. You’ve felt the pulse of danger, the weight of each decision, the immense pressure to act fast, to hit targets, to stay one step ahead. You’ve seen the compromises—the times when the mission, the truth, and the system itself are bent out of shape, all to keep the gears turning, to avoid rocking the boat. You know the frustration of seeing integrity sidelined for convenience, and how it feels to watch the process get hijacked by forces more concerned with optics than with doing what’s right.

The pressure is relentless. It wears you down, piece by piece, until you start questioning whether it’s worth it. Whether it’s worth the long nights, the constant firefighting, the exhaustion of navigating systems that seem designed to keep you stuck rather than set you free. You know the feeling when you’re asked to deliver results, and those results aren’t based on sound intelligence but on patchwork pieces of a narrative that doesn’t quite add up. And yet, you make it work, because you have to. The mission depends on it, or so they say. But at what cost?

And then there’s the decision-making. Oh, how I’ve seen it. When those higher up demand more than what’s possible, when they push for answers before you even have time to breathe. When the timeline is squeezed to the point of absurdity, and your only choice is to either rush through, cutting corners, or face the consequences of telling them the truth: that what they’re asking for isn’t feasible. You’ve been there. You’ve felt the tension as you try to balance the mission with the reality of the situation, hoping you don’t get caught in the crossfire.

We don’t talk about it enough—the fragility of the system we work within. How quickly things can unravel when we let expediency take precedence over integrity. How the cracks start to show, one after another, until the foundation that holds everything up feels like it’s crumbling beneath you. We’re supposed to be the ones who uphold the values of truth, transparency, and accountability, but what happens when the very system we’re part of starts to chip away at those values? What happens when the job becomes more about navigating bureaucracy than serving the greater good?

And yet, no one talks about it. We don’t speak up enough about the pressure to conform, the pressure to play the game, the pressure to look the other way when something doesn’t sit right. Instead, we keep our heads down, focus on the task at hand, and hope that, somehow, things will get better. But I’ve realized it’s not enough to just go through the motions. We can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s clear it’s not.

So, I’m stepping away. This isn’t a decision I’ve made lightly, and it’s not because I’ve given up. It’s because I refuse to settle. I refuse to be part of a system that sacrifices truth for convenience. I refuse to turn a blind eye when integrity is compromised, when corners are cut, and when the real work gets lost in a sea of bureaucracy and broken promises.

But here’s the thing: I can’t do this alone. I can’t change the course of this ship by myself, and I certainly can’t carry this burden any longer without support. That’s why I’m reaching out to those of you who still believe in doing things the right way—the ones who care about the work, who value integrity over expediency, and who still hold fast to the belief that the truth matters more than the story we’re told to sell.

I need you to watch my back. I need you to keep pushing for what’s right, even when the path forward isn’t clear. It’s easy to stay silent, to keep your head down, to let the noise of the status quo drown out the calls for change. But we can’t afford to do that anymore. If we don’t watch each other’s six, if we don’t hold each other accountable, then who will?

This isn’t the end of my journey—it’s just the beginning of a new mission. One where I won’t be a cog in a broken machine, where I won’t have to compromise my integrity for the sake of expediency. A mission where the truth, even when it’s inconvenient, is the guiding force. And I hope that some of you will join me in this new mission. The future of this industry—the one we all helped build—is still in our hands, and I believe it’s possible to reshape it into something that truly honors the work, the risks, and the sacrifices we’ve made.