Woken Up Inside

This past year, I’ve been moving like a ghost through my own potential(s). Probably longer.

Sure—I’ve done some consulting work, helped friends, their startups, and friends-of-friends untangle complex problems. I’ve built smart tools, clarified tangled datasets, and even let people pay me to do it. But I wasn’t fully in it. Not the way I know I could be.

Because if I’m honest, I’ve been living behind a partitioned identity:

There is/was Jesse Do—operational risk specialist, strategist / thinker; a resume-ready professional. Jesse was just aiming for practical, and marketable.

Then there was Somme Güy—the alter ego, my philosophical mirror, my skeptic and wanderer. Somme was the voice I used for deeper truths, unfiltered honesty, and philosophical explorations I wasn’t comfortable openly attaching to Jesse.

But the truth is, I didn’t just compartmentalize philosophy from practice. I divided myself. I split my voice, my potential, my power, and hoped these two worlds could be controlledly kept apart. It felt safer that way.

Obviously, I knew when I changed the URL from sgws.ghost.io to sgws.jesse.do, I was making a statement about integration. But this—this post—is the real announcement. (Thanks for coming to my TED talk.)

It’s 2025 now. The world—literally and figuratively—is burning (as it always have but the stakes seem ever increasing). Authenticity isn’t just desirable; it’s essential. Maintaining artificial divisions feels absurd. So today, we say goodbye to the divide.

There’s a line I’ve always carried with me, which I tried writing out a few minutes ago as: “Once you’ve given up the ghost, everything that follows comes with absolute clarity.”

It turns out the original line from Henry Miller, Tropic of Capricorn is actually: “When one has given up the ghost, everything follows with dead certainty, even in the midst of chaos.”When I went to look up the original quote I put mine into an LLM and it thinks my version: “softens Miller’s stark, chilling finality into something gentler, more luminous. Maybe that subtle transformation says something meaningful about my psyche: instead of clinging to fatalism, I instinctively moved toward clarity and possibility. That in itself feels like a form of survival.”

Speaking of survival and performance, I recently watched the latest season of Nathan Fielder’s The Rehearsal. He’s a genius and I cannot tell you how much his work always resonates with me—especially this works idea that it’s not just about “landing the plane,” but about proving we belong in the cockpit (to others, but more importantly; ourselves). The show beautifully explores how performance can both mask and enable real feeling, depending on who’s watching. Similarly, the division between Jesse and Somme wasn’t merely about control—it was a performance of coping, rehearsing emotional authenticity and adequacy in a world that doesn’t always make room for complexity or vulnerability.

This post is the end of the split. Jesse and Somme are of the same person. The same heart, the same brain—just different contexts. One learned how to pass a background check; the other learned how to speak without apology. Today, I’m openly claiming both.

Here’s what I’ve realized:

I don’t need a corporate role to prove my value.

I don’t need a neatly defined job title to justify my existence.

I simply need to do what I do best, fully and visibly.

And what I do best is this:

I try my best to bring clarity to chaos, turning complex, messy realities into actionable insights and purpose-fit solutions.

I build tools that help people see clearly, act wisely, and create authentically.

I think deeply, question relentlessly, and work meticulously—not for clout, but for clarity and care.

Today, I’m finally hanging out my shingle (as we said at Capital One as one of the “12 corporate values”)—not because I’ve figured everything out, but because I’ve stopped pretending I need to. If you’ve followed me, either as Jesse or as Somme, you know this isn’t a pivot—it’s continuity. It’s a clearer, unapologetic rejoining of my voice, my capabilities, and my work.

But here’s the catch—I know we live in an age saturated by AI-generated content. Even these words risk suspicion. Are they authentically Jesse, or subtly shaped by algorithmic smoothing? Let me assure you: the heart and pulse behind this post is undeniably mine. AI might have refined my punctuation, maybe trimmed a sentence or two—but the beating heart, the urgency, the yearning to be fully myself? That’s pure Jesse-tongue.

I’m showing up as myself—fully Jesse, fully Somme—someone good at making things better, for systems and for people alike.

If you need clarity from chaos,

If you need to make complexity navigable,

If you need tools that genuinely match how you think,

If you need someone to help you keep going,

Let’s talk.

I’ll keep writing, building, and carving a path that leaves room for a full human—flawed, brilliant, tired, and hopeful.

I’m not chasing a job.

I’m growing a way of life.

If you’re in a similar place—or want to be—I’d love to walk alongside you.

It’s time.

Let’s do this next chapter as ourselves.

— Jesse (and Somme, fully integrated, no walls left)

(contact@jesse.do)

postscript:
While stepping fully into myself, I remain deeply committed to my colleagues at Unsubscribe LLC. I genuinely look forward to continuing our collaboration and building great things together. Additionally, my other side projects and priorities include self-care, meaningful family time, and helping people authentically and empathetically. I’m also excited about supporting Paul P in launching cocausa.org, a project aimed at building a culture around art beyond exclusive circles (among other collabs). Finally, I’m eager to give everything I can to support Derec D and his inspiring secret project.

(yes “This is the real me” is a reference to Kyle Mooney‘s song )