ryanmayodaily

I’m no saint… but I’m not a sinner either.

I’m just a normal fella with a moral compass that usually points in the honourable direction. And when it doesn’t, I give it a quick tap like an old satnav and tell myself, “Right… re-route, mate.”

Because let’s be honest — I’m not walking around with a halo. If I did, it would probably be wonky, and I’d bang it on a doorframe within five minutes.

But I do try. I genuinely try. And I think we’re allowed to say that sometimes without feeling like we’ve turned into the main character of a motivational quote on Facebook.

The Moral Compass (And Why It Matters)

I’ve always believed in doing the right thing. Not because I’m some kind of righteous angel… more because I’m allergic to being a wrong’un. And I’ve met a few in my time — you can spot them a mile off.

Honour isn’t about being perfect. It’s about trying to do right when nobody’s watching. It’s about keeping your word. Owning your mistakes. Showing up. And not being the sort of person people warn others about in group chats.

And I’m not saying I’ve nailed it every day of my life. I’ve had my moments. I’ve had my “Ryan, what are you doing?” moments. But the compass is there, and I do my best to follow it — even when it would be easier to do the opposite.

Comfort Zones Are Lovely… But Nothing Grows There

I’m always looking to improve my skills and knowledge. Always learning. Always trying to level up.

I take risks. I step outside my comfort zone. I do things that scare me a bit — because if you don’t, you end up living the same week on repeat like a microwave meal: warm, beige, and mildly disappointing.

Now don’t get me wrong — I’m not out here free-solo climbing cliffs or wrestling bears. My “living on the edge” is more like starting new projects, pushing myself, trying stuff I haven’t done before, and occasionally realising halfway through:

“Yeah… I may have overestimated myself here.”

But that’s life, isn’t it? You learn, you adapt, you crack on.

Under the Radar… Until Now

I’ve always been under the radar. Head down, don’t blow my trumpet, don’t make a fuss.

Mainly because if I blew my own trumpet, I’d probably pull a hamstring and end up needing a physio and a cup of tea.

But lately, I’ve started sharing more of what I do — writing, volunteering, charity stuff — and I’ll be honest, it’s made me feel a bit… weird. Like:

“Am I starting to sound narcissistic here?”

Because the last thing I want is to become one of those people who posts:

“Just helped an old lady cross the road. #Blessed #Hero”

Calm down, Gandhi.

But then I’ve realised something important:

There’s a difference between being arrogant and simply acknowledging your effort.

Arrogance is: “Look at me, I’m amazing.”

Acknowledgement is: “I’m trying. I care. I’m putting the work in.”

And if you don’t recognise your own effort, you’ll spend your life downplaying everything until one day you’ve done loads — and still feel like you’ve done nothing.

Charities, Volunteering, and Doing My Bit (Without the Violins)

Over the years, I’ve raised money for charities like Help for Heroes. I’ve ridden my bike for the British Heart Foundation and VVS. I’ve volunteered with Blind Veterans. I’ve given my time as an Army Cadet instructor.

And no, I’m not saying that so you clap and tell me I’m wonderful. Please don’t. I’d get awkward, shuffle my feet, and immediately try to change the subject.

I’m saying it because it’s part of who I am.

I’ve always believed if you’re able to help, you help. If you can give your time, you give it. If you can show up, you show up.

And truthfully? Some of the best moments are the simple ones.

A proper laugh with someone who’s been through it.

A brew and a chat that lifts someone’s mood.

A moment where you realise, quietly: “Yeah… this matters.”

That’s the good stuff. Not applause. Not attention. Just meaning.

Writing Fiction (Because Therapy Is Expensive)

Now I’m writing fiction novels — and I’m incorporating bits of my life into them.

Not because I think my life is some cinematic masterpiece. If my life was a film, half of it would be me walking into rooms and forgetting why I went in there. The other half would be me trying to find my glasses while they’re on my head.

But real life gives stories weight. It gives characters authenticity. It gives you emotions you can actually write from instead of guessing.

Writing is creative. It’s challenging. It’s exciting. And it’s terrifying sometimes — because when you put your work out there, you’re basically saying:

“Here. Judge this thing I made.”

And that’s a bit vulnerable, isn’t it?

But I’m doing it anyway. Because I’d rather be brave and slightly embarrassed than safe and stuck.

Praising Yourself Without Turning Into a Bellend

So how do you praise yourself without it becoming “look at me”?

Here’s my approach — and trust me, this is from a man who cringes at his own compliments.

1) Take the mick out of yourself.

Because if you can’t laugh at yourself, someone else will do it for you. And they’ll enjoy it more.

2) Keep it grounded in actions.

Not “I’m amazing,” but “I’m trying. I’m learning. I’m showing up.”

3) Admit you’re not perfect.

I’m not. I’m human. I mess up. I get it wrong. I have off days. I have days where my “moral compass” is more like a fridge magnet that’s slipped down the door.

4) Make purpose the headline.

If sharing your journey inspires someone else to help, to grow, to start, to try — then it’s not vanity. It’s usefulness.

Final Thoughts

I’m no saint.

But I’m not a sinner either.

I’m just a bloke trying to live with honour, improve myself, help where I can, and create something meaningful — while also taking the mick out of myself enough to stay grounded.

So if you’re reading this and you’re like me — quietly grafting, quietly caring, quietly showing up — here’s your reminder:

You don’t need to brag.

You don’t need to shout.

But you are allowed to acknowledge the good you’ve done.

And if anyone thinks that makes you narcissistic…

Tell ’em your trumpet’s out of tune anyway. 🎺🤣