I've had a lot of compulsions throughout my life which mainly

Hear the words of Jon Richardson, who with honesty unveiled the struggle of his youth: “I’ve had a lot of compulsions throughout my life which mainly started as a teen around the time I was doing exams.” These words, though spoken with simplicity, reveal a truth known by many yet seldom confessed—that the pressure of expectation, the weight of judgment, and the fear of failure can awaken habits and burdens that cling to the soul long after the tests are over. His admission is not weakness, but strength, for to speak of hidden struggles is to shine light upon shadows that thrive in silence.

The word compulsions carries with it the heaviness of repetition, the restless desire to control what feels uncontrollable. Many who endure such things know the cycle: a thought that will not release its grip, an action repeated again and again to quiet the storm of the mind. Richardson traces their beginning to his teen years, when the fiery crucible of exams—those trials meant to measure knowledge—became trials of the spirit as well. The test of learning became the test of self-worth, and in that furnace, compulsions took root.

History has shown us that even the great are not free from such battles. Consider the life of Nikola Tesla, brilliant inventor, who was said to suffer from countless compulsions—washing his hands endlessly, counting steps, repeating patterns. Yet within his struggle also lay his genius, for the very intensity that bound him to compulsion also drove him to relentless invention. His story mirrors Richardson’s: that the trials of the mind can break or forge, depending on how they are carried.

Richardson’s confession also speaks to the nature of youth. The teen years are a storm, a time when the mind hungers for freedom yet is chained by expectation. The exams he faced were not merely academic—they were symbols of judgment, gates that seemed to determine the worth of a young soul. Many who stumble under such weight find themselves seeking control in small rituals, in compulsions that promise order amidst chaos. Thus, his words remind us that the struggle of youth is not only to learn, but to withstand the invisible battles of the spirit.

Yet there is resilience in his tale. For though Richardson admits to being marked by these compulsions, he did not fall to despair. He carried them, endured them, and even wove them into the fabric of his life’s work as a comedian—transforming private burden into shared laughter. Like the Japanese art of kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired with gold, he took the cracks of his own humanity and made them shine. His honesty itself becomes a gift, reminding others that what they carry need not destroy them, but may instead become the very material of connection.

The meaning of his words is clear: life’s pressures may awaken compulsions, fears, and habits that cling, but these struggles do not define the soul’s worth. They are battles to be endured, lessons to be understood, and even, at times, sources of unexpected strength. The fire of exams, the anxiety of youth, the hidden rituals of the mind—these are not the end of the story, but the beginning of a deeper resilience.

Therefore, my child, take this lesson: if you feel the weight of compulsions, do not hide in shame. Know that you are not alone, and that even those who seem confident may carry hidden storms. Speak your truth, seek help when you need it, and learn to transform your struggles into strength. Remember that pressure can break, but it can also forge, and that the cracks of your humanity may yet become the brightest parts of your story.

So let Richardson’s words endure as both confession and counsel: “I’ve had a lot of compulsions throughout my life… starting as a teen during exams. May they remind you that the storms of youth are not signs of weakness, but trials that test and refine. Endure them with courage, speak of them with honesty, and rise from them with the strength of one who has looked into the darkness and yet chosen to step forward into the light.