The Sushi Roll Philosophy

I recently gave my first Toastmasters speech, an icebreaker about sushi. Why sushi? What is so special about sushi? You’ll find out soon enough.

If you’ve spoken to me lately, this won’t come as a surprise; my newfound obsession with sushi has become a recurring character in almost all my conversations. If you’ve known me for longer, you’re probably alarmed. Raw fish? Olu? Absolutely not. Yet here we are. People change, and as you might have gathered by now, I tend to change more frequently than most.

I didn’t intend to share this transcript publicly. But recently, a friend sent me an Instagram reel about sushi. After some back-and-forth, he casually mentioned that he will never eat it. So I channeled my inner low-budget therapist and asked: “Is this really about the sushi, or is there something deeper going on here?”

Of course, he asked why I said that, and I responded that I would write an essay and share it with him soon. So, here I am writing…to share with him and the world.

I also hope this essay reveals to you all where I am in life and why I’ve been making choices that may seem wildly out of character lately. If you catch me taking insane, unexpected leaps, just know I’m simply operating under my newly coined Sushi Roll Philosophy.

Speaking of insane leaps, I signed up for the TCS Amsterdam Marathon happening in October 2026. Graduated from running to catch the bus to a marathon. The balls on this chick. HUGE. The training plan? TBD.

Here is the speech as I wrote it, with the naivety that I would deliver it as memorized. But first, cue up Nervous by John Legend, because if I could write a love song about how sushi makes me feel, this would be it.

I would say: When it hits my lips and the fireworks fly, sending sparks through the air like the 4th of July, I could eat it forever, I’m certain… Every time, every time I eat it, it’s like paradise fell down from above. And the high, even too much ain’t enough… My heart short-circuits…

Oh sushi, dear sushi!

The Icebreaker Speech

Hello everyone, I’m Olu. Today, I will introduce myself and explain why I joined Toastmasters by talking about sushi.

Everything I’ve recently learned about taking risks, I learned from eating sushi.

[Pause]

If you were to look at my plate a few months ago, you would see a very comfortable and predictable platter. As someone who liked routine, I ate the same things and ordered the same Cider drink at the pub.

I liked knowing exactly what I was getting into. I liked definition and certainty so much that I was the kind of person who would ask, “So, what are we?” after a very good first date. Just kidding, no one does that. Except me, of course.

Safety was my favorite flavor. But life has a funny way of challenging our comfortable routines, and for me, that challenge arrived on a wooden block.

It was a Sunday afternoon. Two of my friends had just helped me haul my heaviest and lightest possessions into storage when we decided to have lunch to celebrate the day.

It was an Asian restaurant. Glancing at the menu, I felt the familiar wave of panic and hesitation that comes when I see things that threaten my safety. Predictably, I retreated to safety and ordered ramen. One friend got a poke bowl; the other, among many things, ordered sushi.

Lunch was underway when the friend with sushi pushed the platter toward the center of the table. “This is incredible,” she said. “You both have to try a piece.”

I had spent my entire life avoiding sushi on principle, because Why would anyone willingly consume cold, raw fish? But under the gentle peer pressure of the table, I struck a deal with myself: Just one roll. If it’s awful, you never have to touch it again.

I picked up the chopsticks, wobbly, braced for the worst, and popped it into my mouth. I fully expected to swallow it with a forced smile, chase it with a sip of water, and move on with my life.

Instead, my brain short-circuited.

[Slightly slower pace here]

Words fail me right now, but I’ll ask you to think of the best meal you have ever had, and how it made you feel. Happy? Excited? Ecstatic? The urge for another bite, the disbelief that you’d lived your whole life without experiencing it, multiply that feeling by ten; that was how I felt!

Was it the cool freshness of the fish, the slight warmth of the rice, or the sudden contrast of the soy sauce? It was incredible.

[Pause]

In that single bite, my life changed.

[Walk a few steps to another part of the stage]

That one roll of sushi became my gateway. It changed my dinner order and ultimately my mindset. I realized that by clinging to what was comfortable, I was missing out on a whole world of rich, complex experiences. I asked myself, if I have been this wrong about sushi, what else was I wrong about?

That afternoon gave birth to what I call the Sushi Roll Philosophy, which I now apply to the rest of my life.

When an opportunity came up that made me second-guess myself, I thought of that first bite and stepped forward anyway. When an event appeared on my radar where I knew nobody and had no plus-one, I swallowed the hesitation and went. I started replacing the automatic No with an open question: Why not?

Which brings me to right now.

[Smile and gesture to the room]

Standing here, looking out at all of you, delivering my first speech, this is my new sushi. Public speaking for me is unfamiliar, uncomfortable, and terrifying. Filling out the Toastmasters membership form brought back the exact same knot I felt in my stomach when I was staring at that wooden sushi block some months back.

But I am here because I know that growth doesn’t happen when you stick to the safe side of the menu. It happens when you pick up the chopsticks, ignore your nerves, and dive right in.

I don’t know exactly where this Toastmasters journey will take me. I know I’ll make mistakes, but I am excited to be a part of this club. I am ready to learn, to stumble a few times, improve with every speech, and grow alongside all of you.

Because if my experience eating sushi for the first time has taught me anything, it’s that some of life’s best experiences begin by taking a chance. I can’t wait to see what else is on the menu.

Thank you.

Did it actually go that smoothly on stage? Absolutely not.

I added the dramatic pauses while memorizing to help me remember my pacing. Still, I rushed through like I had hot coals in my mouth and lost the thread of my conclusion halfway through. What I delivered bore almost no resemblance to what you just read, but I somehow managed to get the message across.

But I guess that’s why I joined Toastmasters. If I could effortlessly deliver what’s in my head without my nerves hijacking the wheel, I wouldn’t need the club.

More importantly, delivering the speech brought the lesson full circle, which is exactly what I am trying to get across by sharing this publicly.

Refusing to try something can be completely valid; sometimes your stomach can’t take it, or your tastes simply lie elsewhere. But too often, it’s not actually about the sushi, as in my case; sometimes it’s about the walls we construct because the unknown feels dangerous. We retreat into the predictable because within those borders, we know how to avoid the failure that sometimes accompanies uncertainty.

I spent a long time saying no to many things, not because I lacked desire, but because an automatic rejection was cheaper than the vulnerability of stepping outside the lines. I was protecting myself, though I’m still not entirely sure from what.

Since that lunch in March, the momentum has kept rolling. I recently tried kiwi (do not judge me). I’ve started listening to techno and gone to raves, two things I had previously written off without a second thought, both of which I now absolutely enjoy. This has made me realize that there really isn’t much joy to be found in constantly protecting yourself from the unfamiliar.

You don’t have to burn down your boundaries or reinvent your entire personality overnight. But you can start interrogating the automatic “no.”

Before deciding a door is closed, take one bite, listen to one track, make one questionable decision, have the conversation, move countries. If you hate it, fine, at least you know. But if you love it, you get to discover a whole new part of the world you almost missed out on.

As I recently saw in someone’s bio, do everything at least once, except heroin. Obviously, don’t do anything that hurts people.

So, to my dear friend, whose conversation prompted me to share this, and to everyone else reading this, take a look at your old rules and ask, “Why did I make these rules?” Ask yourselves if, truly and objectively, you really dislike something, or you are just scared of the potential, and not guaranteed, upheaval that changing your routine could bring.

So, I’ll end this by saying: do more things, fear fewer things, and, of course, adopt my sushi roll philosophy: do almost everything at least once before canceling it. What is the worst that could happen? Huh?