As a child, I think it’s fair to say that on every level, I was a little Tom Sawyer—rebellious, mischievous, wholehearted, wild, cheeky, non-conformist, eager for freedom, action, and thought. I was definitively oriented toward fun and experience, carefree and adventurous. And I had my Huckleberry, whom I met every evening and on weekends. Well, maybe our roles were reversed, but that’s not the most important part.

I eventually became a guide in the realm of decision-making, particularly high-stakes choices, a path that some may see as obvious and others may find as surprising as I do when reflecting on my story. Because no, even though we are shaped by our experiences, I do not subscribe to the idea of “it was meant to be” but rather to “it’s still to be written.”

In school, I wasn’t disruptive, but I didn’t work either. My mother would chase me around the house three times a week to make me do dictations, which I absolutely hated. I would escape to the park, where I spent all my evenings with my friend. My parents’ house overlooked the Parc Rivière in Bordeaux, which at the time was left quite wild. We could climb the ruins of the castle, build tree forts, and hide in the tall grass. It was fantastic.

In class, however, I daydreamed about the adventures that awaited me in the evening, and I was only interested in recess, where we played soccer on the Tivoli fields. My parents, very worried, decided to send me to see a psychologist.

The psychologist, like my teachers, from what I’ve been told, all agreed that intelligence wasn’t the issue. This left everyone quite puzzled, but since my teacher found me charming and full of potential, I moved up from class to class. At the time, no one talked about giftedness or being HPI (High Potential Intellectual).

According to my parents, the first time I ever spoke about my future profession, I was about eight years old. I asked my mom on the street, “Mom, how do you become a homeless person?” I already had an ergonomic mind, unknowingly geared toward activity analysis! ;)

She told me that wasn’t a profession and later confided that the question left her deeply unsettled and worried for several days.

By the age of 15, I was already interested in psychology, psychoanalysis, and occasionally philosophy. Those were the only topics I read about. At that time, I was far less humble than I am today—very proud, yet lacking the critical thinking skills I have now. I tried to impress girls with limited success, elaborating on topics none of my friends ever broached.

I’ve always felt a sense of disconnect, particularly in my values, my perception and experience of personal relationships, and even in the broader lens I used to analyze situations and contexts. Perhaps it’s that 2D versus 3D analogy often described by people who are HPI. Above all, I tried to hide my deep sensitivity and my ability to read others, which brought me many human disappointments. I wasn’t fully aware of the gap I was experiencing.

Throughout my schooling, I played every type of student. I was the one sleeping at the back of the class near the radiator in winter, and I was also the one diligently searching for the best methods to optimize time spent and results achieved. No student can trick me—much to my children’s dismay.

After earning my degree in psychology, I found myself puzzled by the choice of specialization I had to make. Clinical psychology didn’t interest me. Then, one day in a corridor, I encountered an ergonomics professor who convinced me to choose his specialty (he needed to fill his quotas) for my master’s degree. It was the first time I had been influenced in my academic journey. I don’t regret it, but I do carry some bitterness. My personality, which resists conformity and rejects established norms and conventions, didn’t sit well with my research director. I don’t regard anyone as an authority figure without good reason, especially those who self-congratulate in small circles of so-called experts on trivial matters.

At the end of my master’s program, I took a step back and reflected on my intrinsic skills and desires. I chose to pursue a DESU in professional coaching at Paris 8. During that year, particularly through hands-on practice, I realized that what I truly cared about was helping others make critical life choices—ensuring I influenced them as little as possible while helping them evaluate their options from every angle and consider the consequences.

For 20 years, I’ve been working in this field, likely as much for my own growth as for my clients’. Having lived through these challenges, I’m intimately familiar with the psychological nuances and thought processes surrounding decisions, investments, and commitments. I quickly discern what’s at play.

I know all the intricacies of academic struggles and failure, having experienced them firsthand.

For me, dialogue is the most powerful tool for growth. I cannot help but examine every stone on the path of my questioning and thought process, considering problems in their multidimensional aspects. For some in my personal life, it’s exhausting; for my clients, it makes all the difference.

I thank everyone who has trusted me so far for leaving no stone unturned and for allowing me to assist them in making informed decisions. Together, we’ve enriched each other.

Coach and Author, graduated from the University of Paris VIII in work psychology, ergonomics and coaching. He has worked at the University of Paris Sorbonne Nouvelle and the University of Paris Orsay, in a training program for graduates and doctoral students to help them optimize their communication and identify their career goals and future jobs.

He has helped thousands of students, teenagers and adults to find their jobs intelligently, with the main concern of offering guidance without influence.

Président and founding member of the French Association of School and Student Coaching, he is regularly solicited by the media and has been interviewed by French newspapers, including "Le Monde" and "Le Figaro".