Creator of Australia’s First Ethical Housing Wealth Model

I was born in Sweden in 1986, but I’ve called Australia home since migrating and becoming a citizen in 1991. I’m not a brand. I’m not a guru. I’m just a guy with a few good ideas, a lot of mistakes, and a deep desire to build things that matter.

I’ve lost a house to the banks. I’ve leaned on my parents more than I’d like. I’ve let down my kids, family, partners, friends—even my dog Harry. Never deliberately, but in ways that felt deliberate to them. Unintentionally intentional.

My silence. My spirals. My disappearances. They weren’t meant to hurt, but they did. And I’ve come to see that impact doesn’t wait for intention.

I’ve been selfish. Ego-driven. At times, a terrible driver. I’ve played the victim card longer than I should have. I’ve made business decisions that didn’t just fail—they taught me what failure really means.

But I’m not a bad person. I own my mistakes. I learn from them. I try to improve every single day. I give 100% to being a dad, even when it feels like 60% lands. I build ventures not to chase wealth, but to fix broken systems. I believe in doing the right thing, even when it’s hard. I trust my instincts—especially when the outcome serves the greater good.

I live with ADHD. It’s not an excuse. It’s my lens.

It’s the reason I see the end before the path.
It’s the reason I reverse-engineer solutions from intuition.
It’s the reason I think in symbols, stories, and systems.

It’s also the reason I’ve struggled. But I’ve come to see it as a gift, not a flaw.

My brain works like a maze. I don’t always know how I arrive at the answer, but I know it when I see it. The path lights up instantly. Explaining it, though—that’s the hard part. I have to build the path backwards, slowly, until I reach others who can see further than most.

Those are the people who join me. They help me build the bridge faster, toward the rest of the world that thinks in systems and processes I can’t always grasp.

Sometimes, to move forward, I have to do something that looks insane.

When I was renovating my house to get it ready for sale, I couldn’t move forward with my business until I got the vision out of my head. No computer, no notebook, no whiteboard could hold it.

So I wrote on every wall in the house.
Paint pens. Spray cans. Brushes.
Legislation. ATO policy. Strategy. Emotion. Vision.

I needed to see it all at once. I needed it out of my head and onto something real.

When my builder came back, I tried to explain first. I wanted to soften the blow. But the gasp he let out came from somewhere deep—his stomach, his soul. People thought I’d turned the place into a crack den. Even the police did when they came to evict me.

I said, “Why would a crackhead write about ATO policy on the walls?”
But it didn’t land. And I don’t blame them.
It looked insane.
It felt sacred.

I’m not saying anyone else should do that. But I am saying this:

Put your dreams on show.
Even if they’re messy.
Even if they’re ridiculed.
Even if the reaction is silence.

Every time someone dismisses your idea, it moves closer to reality.
Because you dared to make it visible.

I believe in something greater. Call it God, call it the universe, call it alignment. I believe that when your intention is clean and your heart is open, the right people, the right timing, and the right energy show up. Not always when you want, but always when you’re ready.

Yes, it hurts. You’ll be ridiculed. Called insane. Told it’s a bad idea. Or worse—ignored. That silence, when someone reads your idea and doesn’t even react? That can be the most brutal feedback of all.

There are moments when you feel so close to something big, and then a formal process, a rejection, a bureaucratic blow shatters your vision. You think it’s over. You spiral. You feel a bees-dick away from psychosis, depression, or giving up entirely.

But here’s what I’ve learned:
That moment isn’t the end.
It’s the threshold.

If you can create a solution to something that should’ve killed your dream, you’re not broken—you’re one thought away. One idea. One new spin. And when it hits, it snaps you back into elevation, into clarity, into momentum.

You’re closer than ever before.

This site isn’t here to sell you anything.
It’s here to hold space for the truth.
My truth. Maybe yours too.

If you’re building something that matters,
If you’ve made more mistakes than you care to count,
If you’re still trying, then welcome.
You’re in good company.

Written in the quiet moments between rebuilding and remembering.

You may think it’s too late.
It’s not.

It’s never too late to change your outcome. And here’s why: Picture this!

• "That Italian pizza joint, the one with toppings so bad they were basically punishment? They were giving away free slices when I walked past last week. It was one of the best Supremes I’ve ever had."
• "That neighbor who gave us hell for years over where we put our bins? He came over today. Apologized. Asked for forgiveness. Said he’s spending his next chapter giving back."
• "My ex, the one who gaslit me, tried to break me? She changed her life. She realised she was toxic. Now she volunteers in mental health, helping others find the clarity she once lacked."
• "Fat Tony from high school? The guy who was always the punchline? I ran into him at the gym. He’s a bodybuilder now. Stronger than most. Kinder than ever."

It’s never too late to change.
Your present is who you are, not your past.
But if you keep living in the past, then the past becomes your present, unchanged.

Change doesn’t come when you’re ready.
It comes when you’re willing.

And sometimes, all it takes is one moment.
One apology.
One slice of pizza.
One gym visit.
One decision to stop being who you were—and start becoming who you were meant to be.

Learn the art of not giving a single fuck what others think about you.
Be true to yourself.
Every day, show up as the best version of you, not perfect, just evolving.
Always look to improve.
In every relationship, give more than you take.
Keep learning, because every single person on this planet has something to teach you.
Apologize when you’re wrong.
Learn from your mistakes.
And then, let go.

Because when you finally stop caring what others think,
your journey begins again.

This time, with confidence sprinting toward your purpose.
Not walking.
Not waiting.
Sprinting toward being content on this Earth, one of the greatest feelings you can achieve.

✨ Please forgive yourself. Once you do, the rest happens like magic. ✨
Written for the ones still trying. I still am!

Patrik Göransson
Version 39.0

7 September 2025