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For the better part of 72 years, I lived in a crowded room, yet I was completely alone. I had a career. I had colleagues. I had friends. But none of them knew me. They knew the character I played—the stoic man, the decision-maker, the one wearing the “heavy armor”…

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At 72 years old, most men are looking back. They are tallying their professional achievements, polishing their legacies, and settling into the comfort of the identities they have spent seven decades building. I am doing the opposite. I am burning mine to the ground. For my entire life, I have…