I just came in from the garage. Even though my wife is taller than me, she asked me to get the wrapping paper off a high shelf in the garage.

Why? Because she threw out her back doing a weird move with a kettlebell yesterday. And she didn’t think she could reach the wrapping paper without tweaking it.

My wife is powerful and self-sufficient. She’s not used to asking for help. Neither am I. I had minor surgery a couple weeks ago and went through the same thing.

The truth is that we are committed to each other and WANT to help each other. I am happy to help and I know she is for me. I know my default is to do it myself, yet I know I want to help her. I am even delighted to be asked. And I am beginning to understand that sometimes, the best thing to do for both of us is to ask each other for help. To give the other person the gift of helping us.

Sometimes it can feel strange, even, when another person doesn’t even ask for something that I could do easily. Sometimes, the person who is best suited for the task can be hurt when they are not asked.

The same is true for you and your team.

The Deep End of Being a Founder

Most of the founders I work with got there by doing a lot of the work. By having a great idea, yes, but also by working long hours on a lot of things unrelated to that idea.

By the time they get to me, this has often become a problem.

Their team sees them struggle, splashing in the deep end of the pool, and the first thing they want to do is throw them a rope. A finance rope, a product rope, a sales rope.

Each person knows there are things that they are better at than the founder. (In a calmer moment, the founder knows this, too.)

Unfortunately, the founder often thinks continuing to splash is the better choice. Though it’s not really a choice at all. It’s just a habit that used to serve them well.

The First Thing is to Grab the Rope

What if you could see the rope that others are throwing you? What if you could grab it?

What would that create for you?

What would that create for your team?

Can you catch the rope that I’m throwing?

Can you see how supported you are if only you’d stop splashing?

I was told from a young age that I was special. That I would grow up to do great things in the world.

I started reading at 3 (thanks, Mom) and took to school easily. My teachers quickly identified both my high IQ (or talent at taking IQ tests) and my eagerness to please.

I remember when a handwriting analyst (that used to be a thing) told me, in front of my fourth grade class, that I was destined for great things, and might even become president someday.

I’m not sure that I believed that, but I took it on as a personal burden. Whatever I did wasn’t good enough, because I was special, and it was my duty not to waste that.

I got straight A’s through high school, was the first generation in my family to graduate from college (with highest honors, of course), and the first of anyone in my family to graduate from law school (and it was, of course, a top law school). I measured myself based on my professional achievements—whether I was on the partner track at my law firm, how quickly I became a partner in my consulting firm—and my compensation and bonuses.

I took great pride in better and faster. If someone told me that it would take six months to get something done I would, without even thinking about it, assume that I could do it in three months. Often, I could.

And I was a mess.

Being “special,” began to take its toll. I was here to do great things, after all, and that meant that over and over again I had to top myself. It was exhausting, and it was one hundred percent internally generated.

I remember my dad telling me at one point, “If a job is worth doing, it’s worth doing right.” I used that mantra to create a bizarre sort of perfectionism, where I either totally absorbed myself in something or ignored it completely.

I suffered from social anxiety and panic attacks during my late teens and most of my twenties, which I learned to get through by self-medicating and later, more productively, through meditation.

I was harder on myself than on other people but I still wasn’t the easiest person to be around or to be married to. Under the veneer of carefully cultivated Midwestern niceness was someone who could be downright cruel and intolerant of himself and those close to him.

I’m not proud of that.

I remember a moment driving to work when I was 30 and had just moved from a law firm to a consulting firm. I was listening to a book on (actual) tape of Harry Truman, because of course every moment had to be productive, even during your commute. In a moment of existential despair, it hit me that try as I might there would always be someone better than me—smarter, more accomplished, making more money, better looking, whatever metric you wanted. And it had not occurred to me at that point that my value could be measured by anything other than what I had achieved in life.

The burden of being special had at last begun to collapse under the weight of its own absurdity.

Another Path to Achievement

If I was destined to not be special enough on the corporate path, what was left for me?

Good enough, you have to understand, was never good enough.

After a great deal of research and thought on the matter, I decided to become enlightened. If anyone was special, it was someone who was enlightened, who had become one with the universe.

I decided to separate from my wife to be with a woman who made me feel more special (she later left me—special can be really needy). My divorce gave me more time to learn with spiritual teachers, to devote myself to the enlightenment path, to the selfish pursuit of the selfless.

Along the way, paradoxically, I started doing better at work as I cared less at being the “best” at work. I started being more present with people. I started connecting.

I created a healthier way of being and got married again.

And I had a long way to go. I still do.

It All Falls Away

Turns out “enlightenment” is just another made up concept, like special. Meaningless except as a tool for self-congratulation, or in my case, self-flagellation.

As the absurdity of the “enlightenment” effort began to sink in, I fell into yet another funk. Yet in this funk something became abundantly clear.

There is no “there.”

There is no place to get to that we are not making up in our minds. The man behind the curtain creating it all (pardon me, I just saw Wicked) is us.

This is just here, just now, and what is emerging through us in that now.

And that something can emerge with ease and joy or by creating goals and pressure and stress.

What will you choose?

The Gift of Extra Ordinary

The irony of my tagline is not lost on me, and it has always pointed to something much deeper when I allow myself a moment to look.

Extraordinary is a word that I hear coaches use all the time. If you’re not after an extraordinary life, an extraordinary future, why even bother? (Echoes of my father here—a life worth doing right.)

Extraordinary is something I have long craved, as do the founders and CEOs who work with me.

When I want “Extraordinary,” I puff up and create impossible goals and berate myself (and others) for not meeting them. Or even having them.

But occasionally, I am able to step back and see what I really want. The special moments of ordinariness in which, when I am truly able to inhabit them, I can see that everything is already perfect and that nothing is ever missing.

In these moments, I see that I am perfect as I am and that I will never stop learning and creating.

This, to me, is extra ordinary. Not ordinary with something extra. Just deeply, deeply present with exactly what is, while simultaneously watching my deepest desires manifest in the world, whatever those happen to be.

In these moments nothing is missing and everything is possible.

Will you join me here?

As an executive coach, I’ve had the privilege of working with some incredible leaders who’ve faced challenges that would make most people throw in the towel. One of the most inspiring conversations I’ve had recently was with Jamey Edwards, a seasoned founder who’s building his third company with hard-won wisdom from the prior two.

Jamey’s story isn’t just about business success or failure—it’s about personal transformation. It’s about learning to advocate for yourself, valuing your own contributions as much as others, and having the courage to build differently after tough lessons.

When Trust and Karma Aren’t Enough

Jamey shared with me that he used to believe hard work and treating others well would naturally lead to success and reciprocity. It’s a comforting belief, but as he discovered, the real world doesn’t always operate that way.

“I’d spent years taking care of others, assuming they’d do the same for me when it mattered most,” he told me. “But when the chips were down, I learned the hard way that I wasn’t advocating for myself—and I paid the price.”

The cost wasn’t just financial, though that was significant. Jamey described the emotional weight of feeling let down by people he trusted. He admitted to losing tens of millions in value during a business sale and to grappling with self-doubt as he tried to process what had gone wrong.

Building Differently the Next Time

Jamey is now leading his third venture, and this time, he’s doing it on his own terms. The lessons from his past efforts are guiding him as he builds with intention and integrity.

Here are some of the changes he’s made:

Advocating for Himself

Jamey told me that advocating for himself felt selfish at first. “I grew up thinking that asking for more—whether it was equity, compensation, or recognition—was greedy. But now I see it differently. Advocating for myself is how I ensure I’m in the best position to serve others and lead effectively.”

This shift has led Jamey to negotiate equitable ownership structures and fair compensation for himself upfront, setting the foundation for a healthier partnership, aligned expectations, and more balanced team dynamic.

Learning to Say No

“As a people pleaser and optimist, saying no used to feel like shutting a door,” Jamey said. “Now I see it as a foundation, opening the door to a better conversation.” By setting boundaries and focusing on what matters, he’s avoided costly distractions and stayed true to his vision.

Choosing the Right Partnerships

One of the most moving parts of our conversation was Jamey’s description of his new co-founder. “It’s the first time I’ve worked with someone who looks out for me the way I look out for them,” he said. “We’ve made decisions that cost us individually because it was the right thing for the partnership.”

This trust and mutual respect are the bedrock of their venture, and it’s clear Jamey is prioritizing these qualities in all his business relationships now.

Rebuilding Self-Worth

Jamey admitted that after his second company, he questioned his own abilities. “There was a moment where I thought, maybe I’m not that good at building companies. That was a hard thought to face.”

Through therapy, reflection on his track record of value creation, and surrounding himself with the right people, he’s rebuilt his confidence, step by step.

“I realized that over the last decade or so, I had created over $500 million of equity value, and while it went to others, there was a lot to be proud of there. More importantly, I took a lot of pride in thinking about the millions of people helped by the companies I had the honor of leading.”

Jamey’s also mentoring other founders, helping them avoid the mistakes he made, which he said has been both healing and energizing.

A New Approach to Leadership

Jamey’s story is a reminder that leadership isn’t just about the outcomes—it’s about how you show up for yourself and others. He’s more intentional now, recognizing that advocating for himself doesn’t detract from his ability to serve his team, investors, or customers.

“As founders and leaders, we need to accept that it is ok to take care of ourselves. Advocating for myself is how I make sure I’m in a position to advocate for others,” he told me.

The Big Takeaway

Jamey’s journey speaks to a challenge many leaders face: the fear that standing up for yourself might make you seem self-serving. But as he’s demonstrated, advocating for yourself isn’t just about securing your future; it’s about modeling integrity, setting boundaries, and leading in a way that’s sustainable for the long haul.

If you’re struggling with putting yourself first, take a page from Jamey’s book: Learn to say no, choose your partners wisely, and don’t let fear or guilt keep you from claiming your seat at the table.

What’s one way you can start advocating for yourself today?

Let me know in the comments.

The recent election reminded me of something fundamental about choice—not just in politics, but in life and business. Too often, we feel trapped by limited, binary options, each requiring some level of compromise, neither feeling completely true to who we would like to be. Most of the time, though, we don’t have to accept these compromises. Instead, we can choose to create a path that truly aligns with our values and vision.

Rejecting the Illusion of Binary Choices

For all the talk about forks in the road between a (preordained) good choice and a (preordained) bad one, I have never actually seen one.

Choices often look like clear, binary options: this path or that one, right or wrong, “success” or “failure.” Society often reinforces this either/or thinking, implying that one option is “better” while the other is a loss. But in reality, we aren’t limited to preset paths laid out before us. We all have the power to create options that don’t yet exist, options that fully align with what we want to achieve.

Embrace the Power of Creation Over Compromise

Founders and leaders know that true innovation isn’t about selecting from what’s currently available. It’s about envisioning what could be. For example, when building my business, I don’t restrict myself to current norms or what others suggest. Instead, I envision what feels most authentic and then work to bring that vision to life.

The act of creation allows us to bypass compromise altogether. Rather than choosing between two unsatisfactory paths, we can create a new option that serves us fully, eliminating the need to “make do” with less.

Steps to Start Creating Your Own Path

1. Recognize Limitations in Binary Thinking: When you feel boxed in, pause and question whether there’s another way (and what it might look like).

2. Envision Your Ideal Outcome: Clearly visualize what you want—imagine a path that doesn’t yet exist but could fully support your values and goals.

3. Commit to Creation: Open yourself to the possibility that this new path is achievable. By aligning your actions with your ideal vision, you can bring it into reality.

4. Take Action: Talk about your new reality. See if others are interested. Create with them, one small step at a time.

In any area of life, from business to personal decisions, choosing to create with the new rather than compromise with the old sets a powerful precedent.

More and more you will find yourself creating what is right for you rather than accepting the status quo.

As the year comes to a close, let go of limited options and focus on the new paths you can create. In doing so, you’ll build a business (and a life) that truly reflects who you are and what you’re here to achieve.