Remember Who You Are
I’ve been having a lot of conversations lately.
With veteran trainers.
With entrepreneurs.
With clients.
With family.
With friends.
And there’s a pattern that keeps showing up.
Not once. Not twice.
Countless times.
We forget who we are.
We forget the barriers we’ve already broken.
We forget the expectations we’ve already surpassed.
We forget the version of ourselves that would’ve looked at our current life and said, “holy sht, you actually did it.”*
January 2018
I wanted out.
Not in a dramatic way. Not reckless.
Just… less chaos.
I had already started building something in fitness.
Two contracting roles. Early momentum.
But it wasn’t quite enough to sustain a full transition.
So I made the decision to lean further in.
And I still remember the reaction.
My boss didn’t yell.
He didn’t try to tear me down.
He got emotional.
He told me I was making a mistake.
That I was going backwards.
That I was risking something stable for something uncertain.
And I could see it in his eyes —
he cared.
That’s what made it harder.
Because when people don’t care, it’s easy to ignore them.
When they do care, their fear hits differently.
The Problem With Care
Care doesn’t always come with clarity.
His perspective was shaped by his life.
Military background.
Business owner.
Someone who understood discipline, sacrifice, and hard work.
But his lens was still… his.
And for all the overlap we had,
he didn’t fully understand me.
Or maybe he did —
and didn’t want to see me leave.
That’s probably closer to the truth.
This Didn’t Start There
This pattern goes back further.
My oldest brother is the same way.
He wants to help.
Deeply.
It’s part of who he is.
But that help often shows up as resistance.
He’ll try to talk me out of things that don’t align with his path.
And even when I do follow something closer to his experience,
there’s still criticism.
Not because he’s trying to tear me down.
But because if he can’t help…
he doesn’t know where to place himself.
And This Is Where It Gets Dangerous
Because when enough people question your direction —
even from a place of care —
you start to question yourself.
You start to forget:
What you’ve already proven
What you’re actually capable of
What you’ve already survived
You start looking outward for validation
instead of inward for evidence.
The Reality
At this point, I’ve:
Built a career out of nothing
Helped people change their lives through fitness
Produced hundreds if not thousands of podcast episodes
Created opportunities that didn’t exist for me before - and tools and strategies that were never yet imaged
But even now…
There are moments where I catch myself thinking:
“Am I doing the right thing?”
“Should I be more stable?”
“Am I falling behind?”
And that’s when I have to pause.
Not to hype myself up.
Not to fake confidence.
Just to remember.
Remembering Isn’t Ego — It’s Grounding
This isn’t about pretending you have it all figured out.
It’s about keeping a clear record of reality.
Because if you don’t remind yourself of what you’ve done,
the world will happily rewrite your story for you.
Based on:
Their fears
Their limitations
Their experiences
Not yours.
So Here’s The Practice
When you feel uncertain, stuck, or pulled in different directions:
Pause and audit your life.
Not your goals.
Not your future.
Your evidence.
Ask yourself:
What have I already done that used to feel impossible?
What risks have I already survived?
What version of me would be proud of where I am right now?
Because that version of you still exists.
You just haven’t talked to them in a while.
Final Thought
The people in your life might love you.
They might care deeply.
They might want what’s best for you.
But they’re still seeing you through their own lens.
At some point, you have to step back and ask:
“Do I trust their perspective… more than my own track record?”
Because if you’ve already proven to yourself that you can build, adapt, and push forward —
Then maybe the real work isn’t becoming someone new.
It’s remembering who you’ve already been.