Let’s get this out of the way first: I wouldn’t say no to a million dollars. Of course not. But that’s not why I want to play Survivor. The money is a bonus. A nice one, sure, but it’s not what’s pulling me toward this experience like a force I can’t ignore.
I need to do this because I need to stretch myself—physically, mentally, emotionally, in every way possible.
I’m going to suffer for 26 days. That’s not an exaggeration. I know exactly what I’m signing up for. I’m going to endure everything I hate—extreme cold, extreme heat, hunger, sleep deprivation, bugs crawling all over me, a total lack of comfort. And to make it even more ridiculous?
I’m not even a strong people person.
I don’t love small talk. I don’t thrive in big social settings. I’ve spent much of my life as a thinker, an observer, someone who engages when I want to but doesn’t need to. Yet, here I am, deliberately putting myself in a situation where I’ll be forced to interact with people non-stop, where social politics will be the key to survival, and where I will have no escape from it all.
And I want it more than anything.
The Only Thing I Actually Like About Being on Survivor
If I had to pick one thing about Survivor that genuinely excites me, it’s the challenges.
I love competing. I’m fit despite my age, and I know I can hold my own physically. But Survivor isn’t just about physical strength—it’s about mental toughness, and that’s where I know I’ll shine. The ability to dig deep, to push past discomfort, to keep going when everything in you is screaming to stop—that’s what separates the good players from the great ones.
But here’s where it gets interesting:
I also think I’d be good at the other side of the game. The lying.
I’m a Good Liar, But I Hate Confrontation
I believe I’m a good liar. I can keep a straight face, control my tone, and say what needs to be said. But at the same time? I hate confrontation. It makes me uncomfortable, and I avoid it when I can.
That’s going to be a challenge in Survivor.
Because Survivor isn’t just a game of deception—it’s a game of betrayal. At some point, I’ll have to look someone in the eye, shake their hand, and then vote them out. And there’s a strong chance that they’re going to be pissed.
That’s the part I don’t know how I’ll handle.
I can make the moves. I can lie when I need to. But how will I deal with the fallout? How will I manage the emotions, the hurt feelings, the accusations? How will I handle that moment when someone calls me out in front of the tribe?
I have no idea.
And that’s precisely why I need to do this.
Stepping Into the Fire
I like my comfortable life. I like my bed. I like having food when I want it.
But I need this challenge.
I need to strip everything away and see what I’m made of. I need to force myself into a situation where I have no control, safety net, or backup plan because I know that when I push myself into the fire, I become stronger.
This isn’t just about winning a game. It’s about proving something to myself.
Can I survive in a completely uncomfortable environment? Can I navigate the social politics of a tribe? Can I handle confrontation when I can’t escape it? Can I embrace the discomfort and lean into it instead of pulling away?
The only way to find out is to do it.
Winning Before the Game Even Starts
I don’t know if I’ll win Survivor and honestly I don’t care either way.
I’ll play to win, of course. I’ll strategize, adapt, and make the moves I need to make. But I don’t need a title or a check to prove anything to myself.