My hands were shaking, but I still hit send. It was the second time a client no-showed, and realization hit while I’d been emailing to arrange a follow up.
This shit wasn’t an accident.
I’d gambled and lost.
Well, sort of—because it cost me, but only in the short term. And that’s what I wish I’d known a very, very long time ago. Many already know this, but the thing about putting on a charade is that you have to keep it up. The second you stop, it stops working. The mask falls off. And reality shines through.
And I’m finally ok with that. Because what used to feel like gambling now feels like investing.
I knew unsubscribes and lost clients would come with sharing more of my true self online.
But it was a necessary step toward removing the many masks I’d picked up and glued on over the years. Ya know, like many kids trying to blend in who grow up to be adults that feel left out.
Somehow, I’m both excellent and horrible at that, all at once. Like an ostrich, the bird known for burying its head in the sand. Or the kid who hides under the covers for safety. Neither have solved anything—but they feel shielded from danger for just a second longer. I learned how to create that feeling for myself, but without actually looking like I’m doing it. It was an internal thing.
“Wow, that’s a mighty fine combo of masking and dissociation you’ve concocted there, friend”… yeah, you’re telling me. I spent decades crafting an image of myself to present to onlookers. To family, friends, coworkers, strangers on the internet…
Fear made me do it, but comfort is why I kept it up. Because it worked. It earned me acceptance from the people, places, and opportunities I’d hoped would grant it to me. And let’s be clear… I’m not talking about, like, Catch Me If You Can style fraud, here. I’m talking about diverting attention from:
My family.
My sobriety.
My queerness.
My neurodivergence.
So, I’ve been doing the scary thing and opening up about some stuff I’d long struggled with. My hope was to reclaim a bit more of myself. While also offering thoughts from things I’ve learned along the way.
As expected, some readers and clients showed themselves the door.
Even with all I’ve learned about coaching myself through insecurities, I’m human. And it stings. But I also started getting sincere messages of support. Which reinforced what I’ve been slowly trying to get more comfortable with:
I’m not for everyone.
I don’t need to be.
The Unobstructed Podcast: Episode 21
This episode’s a bit different. There’s no lesson wrapped up in a bow or an action plan for how to implement it. But there’s definitely an important takeaway I hope you find helpful. I actually think that letting it unfold like this in conversation demonstrates it beautifully through a story you’ll feel, rather than in an explanation you’d have to decipher.
Trying to force this newsletter and podcast to neatly overlap with my business failed. So I’m letting it break.
I didn’t join Substack to build a content machine, so I’m getting off the rollercoaster. And ditching the sales funnel.
I’m a former outdoor guide climbing my way through the tech world. Writing’s how I untangle mismatched priorities and obstacles in my own life. And sharing what I’ve learned with others helps me learn it better myself—while giving folks an example to use. Which, is what I didn’t have when I was first making sense of personal growth, leadership, and mental wealth. And I really wish I did.
So that’s the publication I set out to build and the podcast I wanted to create. It’s actually why I joined Substack in the first place. Now it’s what I’m getting back to, but without riding the growth strategy express.
Thanks for being here! This journey has been full of learning, unlearning, trial, error, and growth. Rachael and I chat more in depth about this in the episode above. You can also listen on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and Amazon Music.
onward.
-dmac
P.S. if you know someone who’s into stories on personal growth and building mental wealth, consider sharing this with them!
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