This week was harder than I wanted it to be. My autoimmune stuff flared up again, and the prednisone messes with my mood more than I like to admit. My doctor told me something that, on the surface, sounded reasonable. “Just let your family know. It’s going to affect how you show up.” I understood what he meant. And I still wasn’t willing to do that. Not because I wanted to be tough. But because I’ve worked too hard to become someone who leads himself through hard moments instead of handing...