Foreword

On October 25, it was fifteen years since I took office as a notary . Fifteen years. It’s funny how time changes the way you look at things. When you start out, fifteen years seem like an eternity. Today, however, it feels like they’ve flown by in the blink of an eye. Throughout all this time, there’s one number that has been a constant in my career—and it’s probably the reason why many people (usually colleagues in my profession or the industry) form opinions about me without ever having spoken to me.

“The Protocols.”

They’re public. They’re discussed. They’re compared. And, all too often, they end up becoming the sole benchmark for evaluating a professional career. It doesn’t bother me. It’s part of our line of work. What does worry me, though, is that, all too often, a number ends up replacing the story behind it. That’s why I’ve decided—among other reasons—to write this small, “more intimate or personal” blog this year. Not because the statistics are the most important part of my career, but because, paradoxically, they’re the least important of everything that’s happened to me over these fifteen years.

Three reasons to take this step

Earlier, I referred to “other reasons” that have led me to take this step—that is, to openly share my first 15 years of my professional career with the public. If I had to summarize “very, very briefly” the reasons that have led me to take this leap, they would be:

1. My son Roque recently turned 11, also in October. He’s older than a father often realizes. The other day, he innocently said to me, as if it were no big deal: “My friends and I looked you up on the school computer; I wanted to know more about you and show my friends, too.” And as soon as he finished that sentence, he went back to his usual games and conversations.
2. Every month, Rubén—the person on my team responsible for the website, my posts, website traffic, etc.—insisted that, of the 2 million readers we have on our blog, the tab or page that’s viewed by far the most is the one titled “About Me.” It features just a photo of me and a very brief introduction about my education.
3. A few months ago, 126 new notaries were licensed, and they are now at the crucial juncture of choosing and deciding in which town or city they will soon begin their professional careers. As is customary, many turn to any of us practicing notaries for the best possible advice. Each one does so as they see fit. And whether out of admiration or simply because of a close personal relationship with a mutual acquaintance who acts as an intermediary, a couple of these new notaries came to me to see if I could shed some light on this new professional chapter that is just beginning for them.

Well, that very special combination—my son’s curiosity, the loyal readers of my website, and those new notaries seeking guidance or inspiration as they begin their professional careers—brings me right to this point.

“I’d like to share my story about these first 15 years in practice.”

What the Numbers Don't Tell Us

Anyone who looks only at my case numbers will likely come to a very simple conclusion: I’ve signed a lot of documents. And they’ll be right. But they’ll also be seeing only the visible part of the story. Because those numbers don’t tell the story of the days when I thought certain decisions were impossible. They don’t tell the story of the extraordinary people who have been part of my journey. Nor do they tell the story of those who decided to walk away. They don’t tell the story of the mistakes I still remember today. Nor of the sleepless nights. Nor of the joys. Nor of the disappointments. Nor of the responsibilities involved in authorizing thousands of documents that affect the lives, assets, and most important decisions of so many people.

The numbers never tell the whole story. And yet, that’s precisely where what’s truly important lies. I’m often asked what the secret is to achieving a body of work like this. The answer is far less interesting than many people imagine. There is no secret. No magic formula. No shortcut. All there is are thousands of small decisions made, one after another, over the course of fifteen years. Some were right. Others were completely wrong. But every single one of them has taught me something. And that’s exactly what this part of the blog is going to be about.

What You'll Find on These Pages

It is not intended to teach how to run a notary office. It is not intended to convince anyone that my way of working is the right one. Much less is it intended to serve as a manual. It is simply meant to share an experience seen from the inside—my own. After fifteen years, I have reached a very simple conclusion. Protocols were never the goal. They were always the consequence— the consequence of a certain way of understanding this profession, of a way of working, of a way of leading, of a way of relating to clients, to the team, to colleagues, and also to myself.

That’s why, in the coming chapters, I won’t be talking about numbers. I’ll be talking about people. About decisions. About mistakes. About successes. About leadership. About trust. About innovation. About responsibility. About the moments when everything seemed easy and, above all, about those when it seemed impossible to keep going. I’m not writing these lines to justify any decision. Nor am I writing them to convince anyone who thinks differently. I’m writing them because, after fifteen years, I feel that some experiences only take on true meaning when they’re shared. If any of these reflections can help a colleague, a competitor, or any professional who is forging their own path, then it will have been worth sitting down to write them. And if one day my son reads these pages, I’d like him to understand something very simple : that behind every visible success or failure, there’s always an invisible story. And that story can almost never be summed up in a single number.

Because the protocols are public. The lessons they hold, however, are not. And it is precisely those lessons that I want to talk about starting today.