O'Donald Hudson O'Donald Hudson

I Burn the Mask — A King’s Reckoning with Anger

Anger was my trigger.

My shadow.

My silent operator behind the mask I kept adjusting to survive.

“If you become angry, then it is not manly. Gentleness is not only more human but more manly. Anger shows weakness and vulnerability. Just as sorrow is the state of the weak, so is anger.”

That one hit me straight in the soul.

Because for most of my life, I said I wasn’t angry.

I told myself I was just tired.

Just stressed.

Just misunderstood.

But the truth is; I was angry.

And I wore that anger like armor.

Disguised it.

Justified it.

Let it leak into every corner of my life.

Let it hinder me from the very things I wanted most.

Love.

Connection.

Peace.

Anger was my trigger.

My shadow.

My silent operator behind the mask I kept adjusting to survive.

But today?

I burn the mask.

I set it on fire and let it go.

Not to impress anybody.

Not to prove anything.

But because I’m ready to lead my emotions, not be led by them.

Today I pull the dagger.

The one I’ve been walking around with.

The one that’s been bleeding on everyone in my kingdom; even the ones I swore to protect.

And I hope the ones stained by that blood will let me apologize.

Not because I’m perfect.

Not because I expect forgiveness.

But because I finally see it clearly.

This isn’t about them.

This is about reclaiming myself.

This is about becoming the man who doesn’t hide behind his wounds anymore.

I was not born to live angry.

I was born to lead with strength and softness.

With posture and power.

With presence.

So I burn the mask.

I lead the emotion.

And I take back my crown.

👑

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O'Donald Hudson O'Donald Hudson

Laid Off, Not Laid Down: Leading Yourself Through Uncertainty

Black background with a single golden crown sitting beside a toolbox — metaphor for “rebuilding with your own tools.”

There’s a silence that hits after a layoff.

Not just in your inbox, but in your chest.

The world keeps spinning, but your identity feels like it just got yanked from under you.

I remember that silence.

When I got laid off from Southwest earlier this year, I wasn’t just losing a paycheck, I was losing a piece of who I thought I was.

The title. The rhythm. The community.

Gone.

And the questions came quick:

“Am I still valuable?”

“Did I miss the signs?”

“What the hell do I do now?”

If that’s where you are right now, especially after hearing about the 9,000 people laid off from Microsoft; this is for you.

Not a pep talk.

Not a pity post.

A posture shift.

Because here’s what I learned in the trenches:

A layoff attacks your stability, not your worth.

Your gifts didn’t leave when that job did.

Your leadership didn’t expire when your ID badge did.

Your purpose isn’t on pause just because a company changed directions.

But you will have to fight to remember that.

You will have to choose presence over panic.

Because layoffs don’t just take jobs, they surface unhealed pain:

  • The old fears about not being enough.

  • The urge to grind just to prove you still matter.

  • The shame of having to start again.

But starting again isn’t a step back, it’s a chance to lead yourself forward with more clarity than you ever had before.

The most powerful thing I did wasn’t update my résumé; it was rebuild my identity.

Not around what I do, but who I am.

Not around what I lost, but what I still carry.

Not around who didn’t keep me, but who I’m becoming.

I faced my fear of being forgotten.

I sat with the grief of losing my rhythm.

And I told myself the truth, I’m still a man worth following.

Even if nobody’s clapping right now.

If you’re reading this and your head is spinning, hear this:

You are not your layoff.

You are not your title.

You are not the silence that followed.

You are the leader of your own life.

And now is the time to lead like it.

  • Lead your mind into truth.

  • Lead your emotions with grace.

  • Lead your actions with consistency.

  • Lead your posture with power; even if your plans fell apart.

Because when the dust settles and the anger fades, you’ll find the strongest part of yourself was never in the job.

It was in the way you refused to lay down.

Closing Words:

To the 9,000 laid off at Microsoft…

To every person out there who got the call, the email, the pink slip…

You may be unemployed, but you are not empty.

You may be uncertain, but you are not unworthy.

You may be knocked down, but you are not done.

Your voice still matters.

Your presence still commands the room.

Your leadership still echoes, even in the silence.

So stand up.

Breathe deep.

Ground yourself.

And walk like royalty who knows: I’m not just trying to get back in; I’m building something of my own.

Because you weren’t laid off to lay down.

You were shaken so you could rise stronger.

👑

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O'Donald Hudson O'Donald Hudson

King’s Reflection: You Can’t Outrun Pain; You’ve Got to Face It Like a King

There’s nothing more dangerous than a soul disconnected from its own wounds.
Because without truth leadership turns into control.
Power turns into reaction.
Presence disappears.

When I look in the mirror.

That man staring back has tried everything to outrun it.
He out worked it.
He out prayed it.
He out pleased, out hustled, out moved it.
But pain?
Pain doesn’t budge. It waits.

It’s clever.
It disguises itself as silence, sarcasm, overwork, fatigue, short tempers, and fake peace.
But it always shows up.
And if it’s not faced it leads.

Pain is patient like that.
It doesn’t announce its arrival.
It sits in the tension behind the eyes.
In the weight carried on my chest at 2 a.m.
In the subtle flinch when someone asks me, “Are you okay?”

It waits for the performance to fade.
And then it speaks.

Through stomach knots.
Through her disappointed gaze.
Through the quiet regret after another moment of betraying my own truth.

That man in the mirror he was never taught to face it.
Only to delay it.

I was taught to numb.
To suppress.
To push through.
To never talk about it.
To “get over it.”

But now I know the truth.
You can’t heal what you won’t face.

And that hidden pain?
It leaks.

Into relationships.
Into decisions.
Into conversations.
Into fatherhood.
Into leadership.

There’s nothing more dangerous than a soul disconnected from its own wounds.
Because without truth leadership turns into control.
Power turns into reaction.
Presence disappears.

But Kings don’t avoid the fire.
They walk through it.

Not for attention.
Not for revenge.
But for freedom.

Because when pain is faced, it loses its grip.
The man stops reacting and starts responding.
He stops performing and starts healing.

That pain isn’t the enemy.
It’s the teacher.
It’s the buried truth calling him higher.

Strength isn’t in avoidance.
Strength is staring in the mirror and telling the truth.
It’s sitting in discomfort without running.
It’s feeling fully and choosing posture over panic.

You can’t protect your kingdom if you won’t confront your wounds.
And you can’t lead others from a place you keep abandoning.

This pain it doesn’t just sit in the body.
It echoes in tone, silence, and distance.

But here’s the shift:

That man in the mirror he doesn’t have to stay stuck.

He can walk through it.
He can own it.
He can rise like a King who knows what’s waiting on the other side is far greater than the lie he’s been living.

Closing Reflection:

I can’t outrun pain.
 I was never supposed to.

I was built to rise into it.
Present. Grounded. Rooted in truth.

That’s posture.
Not perfection.
 Not pretending.
Just presence real and unshaken.

So if that man in the mirror is still carrying what should’ve been healed…

Let him speak.

Let him feel.
 Let him face it.

Let him rise again not for the world,
but for the King within.

👑

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O'Donald Hudson O'Donald Hudson

The Prison of Identity: Breaking Free from Who You Think You Have to Be

Growth requires movement. Evolution. Choice.

And that kind of freedom isn’t handed to you, it’s taken back.

There’s a silent sentence many of us serve, and we don’t even realize we’re behind bars.

It’s not built by laws or locked doors.

It’s built by identity.

The idea that “this is who I am” becomes the very thing that keeps us from becoming who we’re meant to be.

It sounds noble; grounded, even, to know yourself. But when identity becomes rigid, it becomes a cage. And too often, the bars are made of stories we never choose. Stories written by pain, by culture, by trauma, by someone else’s definition of worth.

🔐 Identity Isn’t Always Truth. Sometimes It’s Survival.

Many of us build our identity on what helped us survive.

We became “the strong one,” “the responsible one,” “the provider,” “the silent one,” “the one who doesn’t need help.”

But what helped you survive might be killing your potential.

Because survival mode identities are built to protect not to grow.

And eventually, those masks get heavy.

⚔️ The Real War is Inside the Mirror

The battle isn’t between who you are and who the world thinks you are.

It’s between who you were and who you’re becoming.

And that battle plays out every time you…

• Feeling like a fraud when you grow, because your identity hasn’t caught up to your transformation

• Believing you’re not “that kind of person” even when your soul is hungry for change

• Say “this is just who I am” as an excuse to avoid accountability or growth.

• Reject new opportunities because they threaten the safety of your current identity.

👑 Kings Don’t Fear Change, They Command It

In King’s Posture, we teach that your identity should serve your kingdom,not confine it.

That means you must be willing to rewrite your role. To break the chains of old labels. To question the scripts that say:

• “I’m not the kind of person who…”

• “People like me don’t…”

• “This is just how I’ve always been…”

Those aren’t truths. They’re traps.

Growth requires movement. Evolution. Choice.

And that kind of freedom isn’t handed to you, it’s taken back.

🔓 So What Now?

You don’t need to destroy who you were.

You need to outgrow the version of you that was built to survive, not to thrive.

The version that stayed small to stay safe.

The version that confused being known with being limited.

You are not your trauma.

You are not your title.

You are not your worst mistake or your biggest win.

You are the author now.

📜 Closing Call: Step Out of the Prison. Step Into the Crown.

The door has always been open.

But you have to walk through it.

Let the old identity go.

Let who you thought you had to be die, so the leader within you can rise.

Because a true King isn’t limited by who he’s been.

He’s empowered by who he’s becoming.

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O'Donald Hudson O'Donald Hudson

Respect Isn’t Owed; It’s Owned
You don’t chase it. You carry it.

Too many people waste time begging for what they were built to embody.

Too many people waste time begging for what they were built to embody.

We say things like “I just want to be respected” or “Why don’t they consider me?” as if our posture depends on her mood or someone else's opinion. It doesn’t.

Let’s get this straight:
Respect is not something you demand. It’s something you decide.
Consideration isn’t something you beg for. It’s something you model with how you move, how you show up, and how you lead yourself.

Because here’s the truth most of us were never taught:
If your leadership can be shaken by one person’s approval, it was never leadership to begin with. It was performance.

A true King doesn’t crumble because they aren’t unrecognized.
You don’t fold because someone else isn’t showing up right.
You leads anyway.

You leads the whole damn kingdom, not just the people who like you.

That means you don’t stop being kind just because their distant.
You don’t stop being disciplined just because no one’s watching.
You don’t throw away your standard because your effort isn’t being praised.

You lead because leadership is who you are; not what you get.

You don’t need them to respect you to be respectful.
You don’t need your team to appreciate you to bring your full weight.
You don’t need external applause to validate your internal crown.

Posture means walking with the weight of who you are, even when the world forgets.

Respect, honor, and consideration begin with how you treat yourself.

You want them to see you differently?
Then show up differently; not for them, but for you.

Show up as the person who doesn’t compromise their character for comfort.
Show up as the person who doesn’t hand over his crown just because someone questioned it.
Show up as the person who leads with integrity, not insecurity.

That’s the posture that changes things.

Not loud. Not forceful.
But undeniable.

Closing Words:

Stop waiting to be seen before you act like a King.

You don’t need recognition to move like royalty.
You don’t need validation to lead with vision.
You don’t need everyone to follow to know where you’re going.

You need only one thing; a decision.

A decision to stop looking outward for respect and start living like the King who already earned it.

Your posture is not dependent on the people around you.
It’s dependent on the King within you.

Lead anyway.
Love anyway.
Hold the standard anyway.

Because the Kingdom is watching.
And your legacy depends on how you show up when it feels like no one else will.

You are the frame.
You are the fire.
You are the foundation.

Move like it.

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