Prometheus was a visionary—a Titan, one of the oldest gods. For Prometheus, fire didn’t just symbolize heat; it represented creativity, rebellion, consciousness, and technology.

So Prometheus did what any true visionary does: he did what others feared to do—he gave fire to humanity as a gift.

He was the first to feel the loneliness of someone who goes first or gives too much. As punishment, Zeus bound him to a rock, where an eagle returned daily to eat his liver. The suffering was endless. Isolating. Quiet. Painful.

And so began the life of a visionary—not someone who is wrong, but someone who is early. The first to rebel. The first to believe in hope. The first to act.

If this feels like you—if you’re hurting because you gave too much, saw too far, or fought something others still worship—know this: it’s not failure. It’s the cost of foresight. Your healing begins the moment you stop trying to explain yourself to people who are still comfortable in ignorance.

No one ever told Prometheus he was right. His gift came without thanks or understanding. If you’re a visionary, you must accept that the system won’t reward you, and the people you free may never notice you. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it. You have to give yourself permission to stop justifying what you did.

For Prometheus, it was Heracles who saved the day. Not through ideology or persuasion—he simply killed the eagle and smashed the chains.

You don’t need a healer. You just need someone strong enough to break the cycle.

Stop looking for everyone to understand you. Find the one person who can reach you.

Prometheus gave others power. You are a visionary. So ask yourself:

Where am I still acting powerless?

Suffering doesn’t make you wrong. But if you stay chained to it—if you only ever hurt for others—you become a martyr, not a visionary.

And the world doesn’t need more martyrs.

It needs someone to give them fire.