What's Your Superpower?

And What If You're Still Becoming It?

Someone asked me recently, "What's your superpower?"

I didn't have an answer.

Not because there was nothing to say, but because the question didn't sit right.

It's strange how often we're asked to sum up a lifetime in a sentence.

To turn a life of effort, failure, wonder, and work into a tagline.

But some things don't distill so easily.

Our gifts aren't always visible.

They're not fixed.

They change with the season,

with the moment,

with the person standing across from us.

Sometimes your power is showing up. Other times, it's stepping back.

Sometimes it's knowing what to say. Often, it's knowing when to stay silent.

Some builders never speak,

but the structure holds because of their hands.

Some thinkers never promote themselves,

but their clarity changes the way others move.

And maybe that's enough.

Maybe your superpower isn't something you declare;

Maybe it's something others feel when they're near your work,

your presence, your quiet way of making things make sense.

I don't walk through the world with a cape.

I walk through it with a pencil behind my ear,

a problem in my hands,

and a question in my gut that's rarely satisfied.

So no, I did not have a neat answer.

But I've got something better: a trail.

A trail of jobs where things started broken

and ended better.

A trail of people who couldn't see the next step

until I stood beside them.

A trail of systems built from scratch,

spaces that now flow, problems that no longer feel unsolvable.

Not by magic.

Not by force.

Just presence.

And attention.

Maybe that's the power?

Not brilliance or branding,

But the willingness to stay

when others step away.

To keep building

even when the plan changes.

To keep showing up

without needing to be named.

Field Note:

Your superpower isn't what you say it is.

It's how others feel when you've left the room.

Use it with care,

And the world will quietly call it something great.