A Raw Moment in Newcastle

The air in the Newcastle pub was a thick, humid cocktail of stale ale and the electric, high-octane roar of Match Day. As a season ticket holder for 16 years, I was a fixture in that landscape, yet I walked through it with a physical secret that felt like a lead weight in my chest. The pressure - never lifting.

For nearly two decades, I had meticulously hidden my hand - my physical cryptonite - believing that any exposure would invite a judgment I couldn't survive. My shoulders permanently notched toward my ears; my heart rate spiking at every curious glance. I was operating under a crushing delusion: that my value was a fragile, external thing.

Let’s talk about the corporate handshake. Whoever invented that tradition was an absolute sadist.

Honestly, why is it needed?

Throughout my entire career, if I ever got a sniff that a networking event was coming up, I would bring out my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle skills like it was 1992. You’d reach out to shake my hand, you’d blink, and I’d already have done a back flip out of the room. I would be gone. I’d vanish just like that.

For as long as I can remember, I have possessed a very specific set of survival skills. But no, not quite like Liam Neeson.

I don't hunt people down. But I can walk into a boardroom, or any room, and without anyone saying a single word, I can sense the exact emotional state of the room. Just. Like. That.

As a consultant (and more generally just as a human!), this is an incredible superpower. I know exactly how to remove tension to avoid an argument, or provide light relief to boost creativity. I create an environment where people feel so psychologically safe that they literally hand me their truths, their secrets, and their burdens.

On Day 3 of my personal 100-day challenge, I had to deliver an in-person presentation. And I was faced with a choice I had navigated for 20 years: I could hide my hand behind the podium, or I could roll my sleeves up.

My suspicion tells me that you already know the answer to this… and you’d be right. I didn’t roll them up.

No, I absolutely did roll them up, I’m just kidding.

This might look like a moment of 'courage' or 'authenticity,' but as a Positive Psychologist, I want to show you the math behind that choice.

On Day 9 of my 100-day challenge, I found myself sitting in a quiet cafe - in a place called Cullercoats with views of the North-East Coastline. Across the room, an elderly couple stared at me. In an instant, my pulse quickened. My skin felt hot. I felt that familiar urge to hide - to put on that mask of 'busy-ness' or 'importance.'

In scientific terms, I was experiencing something called threat prediction.