The Promise of a Nonagon
When my ex-wife and I were separating, I made a promise to my then 9-year-old stepson:
I will be there for you. No matter what.
Even if your mom and I aren’t together anymore.
I’m still showing up. It may look different, but I’ll still be there.
During that season, he came home from school one day and said he wanted to be called “Nonagon.”
As third- and fourth-grade nicknames go, it lasted a day or two for everyone else.
But for the two of us, “Nonagon” lasted a lifetime.
I wanted him to know I meant what I said.
So I had a nonagon tattooed on the inside of my forearm.
He was a part of me—forever.
I’m not saying you need to get a tattoo.
But I am saying: make commitments you keep. No matter what.
A couple of weeks ago, I took nonagon to get his driver’s license.
He’s 18½ now, and decided it was time.
The day before, I posted this on LinkedIn:
Tomorrow morning, I’m driving my ex-stepson to get his driver’s license.
I met him when he was just a year and a half old. He’s now 18.
He was the ring bearer at our wedding. I may have been the provider, but he’s always been my hero.
I was never technically his dad—but I’ve always loved him as my son.
Life happened, and I was no longer his stepdad. But to be honest, that title never felt quite right anyway.
More than anything, I’ve always just been his Mick. And that’s meant everything to me.
Because how you show up in life—when you're supposed to, and when no one expects you to—is everything.
Showing up is part of living out your purpose.
Where in your life are you being called to show up, even if it’s hard?
He didn’t pass that day.
So we practiced.
We built confidence.
We shifted from “if I pass” to “when I pass.”
I posted this the next week:
Last week, I posted that I was taking my ex-stepson to get his driver’s license.
He didn’t pass.
So we practiced. We built confidence. We talked about shifting from “if I pass” to “when I pass.”
Tomorrow morning, we’re going again.
I met him when he was 18 months old—he’s now 18. He was the ring bearer at my wedding. I was never officially his dad, but I’ve always been his Mick. That’s all I ever needed to be.
Lessons:
• Failure isn’t final. It’s feedback.
• How you show up—especially when no one expects you to—is everything.
Actionable Advice:
• Revisit what didn’t go well—without shame.
• Practice on purpose—not just by routine.
• Speak differently: shift “if” to “when.”
• Show up again.
You:
• What in your life feels like a failed first attempt?
• Where are you tempted to say “if”—when deep down you know it’s really “when”?
Then, this week…
He passed.
The test took 12 minutes.
We stood in line at the DMV for 3 hours.
He drove back to his mom’s. We hugged.
I told him I loved him. I told him I was proud.
He drove himself to school.
I went home and worked.
Life doesn’t always go as planned.
It can still be beautiful.
And you can still honor your commitments.
Sometimes love looks like driving lessons and long lines at the DMV.
What commitment do you need to make—one you’ll keep, no matter what?
