GUEST: It wasn't one single moment, more like a slow burn that reached a tipping point. Every single night, after those long hours guiding tourists, I'd lie awake. My mind would race, playing out every possible failure, every risk. There was this immense pressure, not just from myself, but from my family. The weight of their expectations, the fear of letting them down, of taking such a huge gamble when they depended on me. I was walking away from everything familiar, everything known – a life that, while hard, was stable. It was terrifying, leaving that comfort for the absolute unknown. But there came a point where the fear of *not* trying, of staying 'safe,' became greater than the fear of failing. That's when I knew. I was done with safe.