I didn’t sit down to write The First to Rise as an act of self-exploration. The intention was practical and clear. After spending more than twenty years in the mortgage industry, I wanted to create something useful for renters who felt stuck, confused, or intimidated by the idea of homeownership. I had watched too many capable people delay their future simply because no one ever broke the process down honestly for them.
This book was meant to be a guide. A roadmap. Something grounded in experience rather than theory.
What I didn’t expect was how much writing it would ask of me personally.
When a Practical Goal Turns Inward
I assumed the writing would begin with numbers, planning, and systems. Instead, it began with memory.
As I started outlining chapters, moments from my career surfaced on their own. Not the wins I’d put on a résumé, but the human ones. Clients who doubted themselves until the very end. Families who held their breath waiting for an approval. People who never thought ownership was meant for them.
And mixed in with their stories were my own. Early uncertainty. Quiet self-doubt. The pressure to sound confident before I truly felt it.
Without planning to, I was revisiting the emotional foundation beneath the work I do. Writing slowed everything down enough for me to notice it.
Writing as a Mirror, Not a Cure
Writing doesn’t fix anything on its own. It doesn’t give answers or erase discomfort. But it does something equally important. It forces honesty.
When you write seriously, you can’t rush past what matters. You have to choose words carefully. You have to confront what you believe and why you believe it. And in that process, you often discover truths you’ve been carrying quietly for years.
While working on The First to Rise, I found myself asking questions I hadn’t paused to ask before. Why did helping renters matter so deeply to me? Why did I feel so protective of first-time buyers? Why had I avoided telling parts of my own story, even to myself?
Writing didn’t resolve those questions. But it made them visible.
The Unexpected Weight of Professional Writing
There’s a misconception that nonfiction, especially instructional writing, is emotionally neutral. It isn’t.
Even when the topic is practical, your values shape the pages. Your experiences influence your tone. Your past determines what you emphasize and what you refuse to gloss over.
As I wrote about planning, preparation, and responsibility, I realized how personal those themes were. They reflected lessons I learned through mistakes, setbacks, and growth. The book became less about explaining a process and more about explaining why the process matters.
That realization brought vulnerability into places I hadn’t expected.
Writing Reveals the Stories We Live By
In my work, I’ve seen how deeply personal people’s beliefs about money and ownership are. Those beliefs are rarely logical. They’re shaped by family history, past failures, and unspoken shame.
Writing forced me to examine my own internal narratives. What success meant to me. What credibility felt like. What I believed I had to prove.
I don’t think I would have uncovered those things without writing. Not because I was avoiding them, but because life rarely slows down enough to demand reflection. Writing did.
It pulled hidden assumptions into the open and gave them space to be understood.
Why This Matters Beyond the Book
You don’t need to be an author to experience this. You don’t need to publish anything. Writing works quietly, whether it’s for an audience or just for yourself.
If there’s something unresolved you’ve been carrying, writing gives it shape. It lets you see it clearly enough to stop running from it. Sometimes that clarity is more valuable than solutions.
For me, somewhere along the way, I stopped writing solely as an industry professional. I started writing as someone who remembered what it felt like to be uncertain and searching for direction.
That shift changed the book and changed me.
What The First to Rise Ultimately Gave Me
On the surface, The First to Rise is about preparation, ownership, and long-term thinking. But the act of writing it taught me something deeper.
It reminded me that ownership isn’t only about property. It’s about taking responsibility for your choices, your story, and your future. Writing made me more aware of why I do what I do and who I want to serve.
Behind every application is a family, a decision point, and a hope for something better. And behind every writer is a person trying to make sense of their own path.
A Final Thought
Write something honest. Not for approval. Not for attention. Just to see what happens when you finish the sentence you’ve been avoiding.
It may not heal you.
But it will likely show you something true.
And sometimes, that’s enough.
About the Author
Biagio Maffettone is an award-winning leader in the mortgage industry and the author of The First to Rise, a practical yet personal guide created to help renters confidently step into homeownership. With more than twenty years of experience, Biagio is driven by a strong belief in the impact of mindset and purposeful action, helping individuals build lives they are proud of beginning with their home.
