When I was 10 years old, I spent much of my time pretending to be someone else. When I played road hockey, I was Toronto Maple Leafs goalie Mike Palmateer. When I played football, I was Saskatchewan Roughrider safety Ken McEachern. When I rode my bike, I was racing legend A. J. Foyt. Pretending you are someone else when you are a kid is fun. Pretending to be someone else when you are an adult is lonely and isolating. Rather than be who we really are, we adopt personas so that we seem more impressive to others. Instead of talking about how we really feel, it is tempting to put on the “I am fine” mask and keep everyone else out. Outward appearances do not always match up with what is going on inside of us. Such is the case with the rich, young ruler