Two years ago July, I sat in a room with a peer group and walked out a different person.
Not because of anything dramatic. No lightning bolt. No crisis. Just a conversation that held up a mirror I couldn’t look away from. I had a farm, a ranch, a family I loved, a life most people would call successful. And somewhere in that room, I realized I had quietly stopped wanting more. Not because I had enough — but because I had convinced myself that wanting more was selfish.
That was the lie I needed to confront.
Here’s what I’ve come to believe with everything in me: we were not put here to survive. We were put here to grow. Continuously. Upward. And not just for ourselves — that’s the part most people miss. The growth was never meant to stop at your own doorstep.
I believe God placed something specific inside each of us. Not just potential in the generic motivational sense, but a genuine, specific capacity to create, to lead, and to serve at a level that most of us have never fully stepped into. We are, as I say to my clients, God’s highest form of creation. That’s not arrogance. That’s responsibility.
And here’s where I think we’ve gotten it backwards. We’ve been taught that sacrifice means shrinking. That humility means playing small. That wanting more is somehow in tension with faith, with family, with being a good person. So we stay comfortable. We stop imagining. We settle into the life we have and quietly bury the life we were built for.
But what if upward self-sacrifice — the willingness to give up who you currently are in order to become who you were made to be — is actually the most honorable thing you can do?
Every time one of my clients steps through the terror barrier and says yes to the version of themselves they’ve been afraid to claim, something happens that goes far beyond their business or their income. Their kids see a different parent. Their spouse experiences a different partner. Their team feels a different leader. Their community gains a different contributor. The ripple of one person stepping into their worthy ideal touches lives they will never even know about.
That’s what I mean by living for something bigger than yourself. Not a theological argument. A practical one. When you grow in service to others — when you sacrifice the small, comfortable, approval-seeking version of yourself on the altar of who you were actually made to be — you become a force for good that extends far beyond your own four walls.
The peer group meeting two years ago didn’t give me a new strategy. It gave me permission. Permission to want bigger. Permission to stop shrinking my goals to fit inside my current self-image. Permission to believe that the ambition I had buried was not selfishness — it was a calling.
Most people I talk to are not lacking information. They’re not lacking strategy. They’re lacking the belief that they are worthy of the life they can imagine. And that worthiness — the deep, settled conviction that you were made for more and that pursuing it is an act of service, not selfishness — that is where transformation actually begins.
Two years later, I run a coaching business built around that single idea. And every client who walks through the door is carrying some version of the same thing I was carrying in that peer group meeting — a buried want, a shrunk goal, a quiet resignation dressed up as contentment.
The work is always the same. Reconnect them with what they actually want. Help them see that they are worthy of it. And then walk with them as they sacrifice who they’ve been in order to become who they were made to be.
That is the real work. And it starts with you deciding to stop playing small.
If something in this hit a nerve, that’s not an accident. The work of stepping into who you were made to be doesn’t happen alone — it happens with the right people in the room. Learn more about my coaching at kznsolutions.ca.