My First Desk & Reflections On Personal Growth

This post originally appeared in my weekly newsletter, BL&T (Borrowed, Learned, & Thought). Subscribe

Borrowed

"Some people say they want something, but deep down, they have limiting beliefs that contradict their getting it. For example, some people believe they’re not good enough, not deserving, or that people will screw them— something negative like that. No matter how intent you are, no matter how hard you work, if you have a limiting belief, it will somehow manifest. Beliefs are invitations to the universe to give us a hand that will either support us or slap us—it all depends on whether your beliefs are expansive or limiting.”

From "The Referral Code: Unlock a Constant Stream of Business Through the Power of Your Relationships" by Larry Pinci and Phil Glosserman

Learned

I recently came across this photo on my camera roll. I couldn't remember exactly how old I was, but remembered the day and the desk fondly.

According to my mom, it was my 5th birthday. The party was at a local McDonald's in the heat of summer. When it came time for my parents to give me my gift, they walked me outside to the parking lot, where they opened the trunk of our Chrysler minivan to reveal a brand-new Little Tikes desk, equipped with light table and all.

I was ecstatic.

That desk became my creative sanctuary—where I’d spend hours drawing, creating, and exploring my imagination.

It was at that desk that I dreamed up projects like my own mini skateboards, long before Tech Decks hit the scene. It’s funny to think about now, but those early adventures at my desk were a glimpse of the curiosity, creativity, and passion that’s driven me ever since.

Seeing this photo also served as a reminder of how I’ve rewritten my story over the years—not just by setting goals, but by embarking on an endless journey to discover who I am and can be.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned along the way, it’s that I can become whoever I choose. And when I set clear goals and commit to the work, I unlock potential I never knew existed. But baked into this journey is an important truth: your past doesn’t have to define your future.

Too often, we hold onto stories about ourselves—things we’ve told ourselves, or others have told us—that we accept as fact. They not only hold us back from what we want but, even worse, often keep us from even trying.

But rewriting the future isn’t just about setting goals or pushing boundaries. It’s also about deeply knowing yourself—your strengths, your weaknesses, and the reality of where you are today. That kind of self-awareness isn’t about accepting limits. Instead, it’s about using that clarity to navigate challenges and decide who you want to become.

For me, this clarity has been the key to taking on challenges I once thought were out of reach. Competing in my first powerlifting competition in 2018 was one example. It was something I’d never imagined myself doing until the opportunity arose. Through training and discipline, I discovered joy not just in the competition but in the process itself—and in realizing I’m capable of far more than I’d believed.

The same was true of moving back to my hometown, an idea I’d once ruled out completely. Looking back, it stands as one of the best decisions Dana and I have made.

It’s hard to imagine my life today if I’d let my limiting beliefs hold me back from these experiences.

In leadership and my career, this self-awareness has been just as critical. Knowing where I thrive and where I need support has shaped how I approach challenges and adapt when unexpected opportunities or obstacles arise. It’s helped me lean into my strengths and be honest about areas for growth, whether it’s learning from mentors or surrounding myself with a team whose skills complement my own. This ongoing reflection has allowed me to grow, make better decisions, and face uncertainty with confidence.

Looking back at me and my desk, I see the beginnings of who I am today—a person drawn to exploration, and growth. That little kid didn’t know where the desk would take him, just as I can’t fully know what lies ahead today.

But I can choose. I can reflect. I can work to know myself better. And from that place of clarity, take steps—small or big—toward the future I want to create.

I think about this as Dana and I raise our son, Mylo—not only encouraging his passions and interests but helping him embrace his strengths and learn from his challenges.

Funny enough, my parents still have that desk. Maybe Mylo will have a chance to create something new there someday.