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I’m kind of ashamed to admit this, but something happened that really threw me off this morning.
One of my students launched a new product.
And it performed phenomenally well.
$100k+ of revenue in under 24-hours.
You’d think, as his coach, that I’d be beaming with pride.
(and I totally am)
But if I’m being 100% truthful…
I also felt like shit.
Not because I don’t want him to win (I do!).
But because watching him ship something so awesome poked at this little wound I’ve been carrying around for the past year.
The feeling that I’m not living up to my potential.
Wait, no… scratch that.
This has nothing to do with living up to the person I’m trying to become.
(everybody reading this probably struggles with THAT at one time or another, right?)
No, this morning I was hit by something else entirely… something surprisingly insidious.
I was hit with the feeling that I’m not even living up to the standards of the person I used to be.
I call this feeling The Tyranny of Past-Greatness.
Got a sneaky suspicion this’ll resonate with a few of you, so let me explain…
We all know comparing ourselves to other people is a pretty effective recipe for misery.
There’s always somebody richer than you.
Somebody fitter than you.
Somebody more successful.
Better looking.
Further ahead.
Whatever.
And so we’re told:
Don’t compare yourself to others.
The only person you have to measure yourself against is the person you were yesterday.
All ya got to do is be 1% better each day, right?
Well, here’s the problem with that…
When going through rough times (which as an entrepreneur is all but inevitable), we tend to compare our present-self against our past-greatest hits.
I know I do…
There was a version of me who built a real estate portfolio worth a hundred million dollars.
A version who built and exited an 8-figure manufacturing business.
A version who seemed more confident.
More productive.
More certain.
More…
I don’t know…
Successful?
And lately I’ve found myself standing at the bottom of a new mountain, looking up at the next summit…
But unable to resist turning around to stare at the mountains I’ve already climbed.
It’s fucking exhausting.
Because here’s the weird thing about accomplishment I’ve never seen anyone talk about…
Every trophy you collect eventually becomes another standard you can fail to live up to.
Make your first $10k/mo and you feel like Scrooge McDuck swimming in gold coins.
Until you make $100k in a month.
Now a $10k month makes you feel downright poor.
Get your first 10,000 view video and you’re sending screenshots to your mom.
Until you hit your first 1M view banger.
Now you publish something that gets 10,000 views and feel like an absolute failure.
Nothing changed about the objective result, only your reference point to it.
Recently, I’ve started to realize I’ve constructed this massive trophy case in my mind…
It’s filled with every cool thing I’ve ever done.
Every financial milestone.
Every business success.
Every viral video.
Every moment where I felt like I was absolutely fucking crushing it.
Which sounds like a nice thing to have.
Except…
I’ve been trying to carry this damn thing up the next mountain with me.
And it’s heavy.
Like… really freakin’ heavy.
Because every time I try to create something new, I hold it up against the trophy case.
“Is this as good as what I used to make?”
Often, I find myself answering: No. It’s not.
But here’s the thing…
(and if any of this has resonated so far, I really want you to pay attention to this next part)
Your memory is lying to you.
We never actually compare ourselves to an objective recording of our past.
We compare ourselves to the highlight reel… and forget everything else.
We remember the viral video, but forget the hundreds that flopped.
We remember the record breaking months, but forget the years it took to get there.
We remember the feeling of ease and confidence, but forget the restless nights of self-doubt.
We remember the summit, but forget the climb.
And so Past-Anthony becomes this impossible motherfucker to compete against.
Not because he was better than me.
But because he’s not real.
He’s an amalgamation of all my best days with most of the shitty ones edited out.
And maybe you’ve got one of these people living in your head too.
The athlete you used to be.
The body you used to have.
The business you used to have.
The relationship.
The income.
The title.
And every time you move forward, this tyrant from your past whispers:
You used to be better than this.
This is what happens when we use our past accomplishments as standards to live up to…
Instead of evidence of what we’re capable of.
Your past achievements are proof, not pressure.
This is why I’m convinced Story is THE most important part of the Scale Matrix.
(read more about the Scale Matrix here if that’s new to you)
Story. Strategy. Systems. Skills.
We spend so much time trying to fix the last three.
Find a better strategy.
Build a better system.
Develop better skills.
But sometimes the thing keeping us stuck has nothing to do with any of that.
It’s the story we telling ourselves ABOUT ourselves.
I should be further along.
This is beneath me.
I used to be better than this.
The crazy thing about stories is that we treat them like fact.
But they’re not.
They’re just stories.
And stories can be rewritten to mean WHATEVER you want them to.
And so, the trophies can stay.
Hell, I’m proud of mine.
I worked really freakin’ hard for them.
But they belong in the museum, not in my backpack.
Because the next mountain doesn’t care how high the last one was.
And I don’t get to teleport back to the summit just because I’ve been there before.
I’ve still gotta start at the bottom.
I’ve still gotta take the first step.
And then the next.
And the next.
Which means maybe the hardest part of starting over isn’t actually starting from zero…
It’s starting from zero when you still remember what 100 felt like.
And still being willing to put in the shitty first rep.
To publish the thing that might flop.
To be a beginner again.
To be okay with small wins knowing they have a way of stacking up to become something big.
And so I’m putting the trophy case down.
I’ll come back and visit it from time to time.
But I don’t need to carry it with me.
I’ve got more mountains to climb.
How about you?
Stay Hyperfocused, My Friend.
Anthony “Never Stuck in the Past for Long” Vicino
P.S. Be honest… what’s in YOUR trophy case? Hit reply and tell me the accomplishment your present self can’t seem to stop competing against.
