Growing Up in Public

There’s something humbling about calling yourself a high-performance coach while not having a line of high-paying clients beating down your door.

A younger version of me probably would’ve felt embarrassed admitting that publicly. I might’ve tried harder to manufacture the appearance of success instead of sitting honestly in the process of building something meaningful.

But I’m learning to be okay with it.

Not because I lack ambition.Not because I don’t believe in my gifts.And definitely not because I plan on staying in the same place forever.

I’m okay with it because I remember where I came from.

I remember what it felt like to have ideas nobody cared about. To feel unheard. To wonder if my voice mattered. And I remember how powerful it was when even one person took the time to listen, encourage, challenge, or believe in me before there was any obvious “return on investment.”

That matters to me more than image.

So I serve from the heart. I coach from gratitude. And I’m learning that impact and income do not always arrive at the same time.

Sometimes your assignment is to build with integrity long before applause catches up.

One thing I’ve also realized in my mid-fifties is this:

I am finally growing up emotionally.

Not aging. Growing.

For years, I confused access with connection. Availability with loyalty. Tolerance with love. I gave people unrestricted access to my energy because I believed that was what good-hearted people did.

Now? Boundaries are becoming a form of wisdom instead of guilt.

Spiritual boundaries mean protecting my peace and not entertaining every draining conversation just because someone wants access to me.

Physical boundaries mean understanding that rest is productive too — my body is not a machine built to carry everyone else’s emergencies.

Relational boundaries mean recognizing who genuinely pours back into me and who only contacts me when they need bricks for a building I’ll never be invited into.

Financial boundaries mean I no longer feel obligated to overextend myself just to prove generosity or loyalty.

Emotional boundaries mean I can care deeply about people without making myself emotionally hostage to their choices, inconsistency, or lack of maturity.

That growth has changed me.

And honestly? I’m enjoying doing myself for once.

Not the version of me constantly trying to earn a seat at somebody else’s table. Not the version trying to prove value through overcommitment.Not the version trying to hold communities together that never intended to hold me too.

Just me.

Podcasting has exposed that growth in real time.

I’ve found my rhythm as a host. And one thing about me — if a guest comes on half-stepping, there’s a strong chance I’m going to address it live.

Some people may see that as intense.

I see it as respecting the audience.

I demand excellence from myself. I prepare. I study. I listen. I care deeply about creating meaningful conversations. So I’m no longer pretending that everybody deserves a pass simply because they showed up.

And strangely enough, that willingness to challenge people publicly is proof that I’m no longer hiding behind perfection.

Perfection performs. Authenticity confronts.

There was a time when I created too many shows, too many collaborations, too many “shared visions” because deep down I wanted community. Not in a manipulative way — in a human way. I genuinely wanted to build with people.

But over time, I learned an uncomfortable truth:

Some people don’t want community. They want a contribution.

They’ll gladly accept your bricks while building monuments to themselves.

And if you’re not careful, you’ll spend years helping construct spaces where your own voice slowly disappears.

Not anymore.

So maybe this week’s mirror check is simple:

Stop abandoning yourself just to remain accessible to people who were never committed to

pouring back into you.

You can be generous without being used. You can be gifted without universal recognition. You can be evolving without everybody understanding your evolution.

And sometimes real growth looks less like becoming somebody new…

…and more like finally giving yourself permission to become who you already were.

Until next time, take an honest look in the mirror and give yourself permission to grow without apology. Some lessons don’t arrive to shame us — they arrive to refine us. Keep building wisely, protect your peace, and never lose the courage to become more honest with yourself.

— Yusef Marshall (Mista Yu)Coach, Podcaster, Builder of Better Conversations