The Importance of Finding Your Voice in a 2019 World

When life comes at you, try not to just sit idly by.

For the past several months, I have had no voice.

Not in the literal sense, mind you. What I mean is that, for whatever reason, I ceased having a voice online.

I went from executing a digital content strategy that was firing on all cylinders across every major platform to barely putting anything out at all in 6 months.

Why? I have my reasons, some very personal, but before we get into that, let’s talk a little about the importance of having a voice, in general…

I’m a firm believer that each of us has a personal story — a journey, if you will — to tell, and if communicated properly, to the right audience, in the right way, at the right time, consistently (I will never fool you into thinking this stuff is easy), that story has the power to change your life, not to mention the world.

“That is so far-fetched. Who does this guy think he is? Change the world? Really?”

I’m just telling you what I believe.

Personal stories are valuable. Having a public persona, digital footprint, online voice, or whatever you want to call it, is valuable.

How do I know? Well, because I’ve seen it, all my life…

Every time you hear of a nation’s people being oppressed, or a country being thrust into war, what makes it out to the rest of the world are the tweets, the status updates, the stories, documenting what’s actually going on.

Stories are what fill our history books, as well as drive most religions. Regardless of how you or I feel about that, these stories give millions of people a glimpse of the past, in hopes of curbing mistakes being made in the future.

Personal stories fuel the news, locally, nationally, and globally. Never mind the fact that most of these stories are inherently negative (a topic I’ll address on another day), they drive the news industry and public opinion forward.

So, why am I going into all this, exactly? Why now?

In all honesty, I’m the last person in the world you’d expect to see talking about any of these topics publicly, even loosely. I certainly never bring up world affairs, politics, or religion over dinner conversation…

Not because I don’t have an opinion. Everyone has one of those (or so I hear). But because I often feel out of my depth in those situations. I mean, who am I to talk about the current power struggle going on in Venezuela, or the equal rights movement, or the current state of our economy?

Usually, I just tend to stick to what I know…

But one thing I know is this: your story is important. Telling your story, speaking your mind, is valuable and important, because you never know who it could effect, how, or to what it could one day lead.

There are two sides to every story, even yours.

Telling your true story means putting yourself out there in a very real way, and let’s be honest, that doesn’t come easily for most.

In many ways, the idea of communicating our true feelings, or being vulnerable in a public forum, can be intimidating, as well as downright scary.

But those stories happen to be the best stories of all, right?

I don’t know about you, but my favorite kinds of movies are those which are based on true events. Documentaries are also starting to be right up there.

But the stories we come across on social media often communicate otherwise. They portray the glamorous side of being an “influencer” — not just all the best angles, all the best success stories, but only those sides of the individuals starring in them, and it creates a very unreal expectation for the rest of us.

There’s a big gap in a lot of those stories, and unfortunately for those following them, that gap is the raw, honest truth.

There is no such thing as an overnight success. I’ve spent years alongside some of the most successful people in this world and even they say it isn’t so.

And besides, if there were never any conflicts, or fears, or failures, would success really feel all that sweet? Would we even notice a difference at all?

These are things I know now, but were just as blind to as most everybody else not that long ago. That’s why I’m here, to correct my course, and tell my truth.

Which side of your story are you going to portray?

Try your best not to ever look back. Only forward.

When I first left my job and New York nearly two years ago, my confidence and ego were at an all-time high.

I had just worked my ass off for nearly seven straight years, going from my mother’s basement in New Castle, Pennsylvania (where I used the Great Recession as an excuse to not find a job for nearly two years out of college) to a fast-rising agency run by none other than Gary Vaynerchuk, who I will assume most of you know by now.

In that time, I went from being an unpaid intern to getting hired and being promoted four times. By 2017, I was strolling through VaynerMedia’s halls like a senior in his last year of high school. I was effectively labeled an “O.G.”

When I finally left, AgencySpy (owned by Adweek) actually wrote an article about me, ending by saying, “Now before you all start talking shit, just remember that he almost certainly makes more money than you.”

Like I said, after that, my confidence and ego were at an all-time high.

But here’s the truth: Even though leaving it all behind and moving across the country to be with the woman I love left me happier, healthier, and is still one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, career-wise, I’ve struggled ever since.

Even after years of working with Fortune 500 brands, leading meetings in some of the most impressive buildings in all of Manhattan, and watching countless individuals, young and old, rise to fortune and fame through social media, making it on your own is still really, really, ridiculously hard.

I came out to Denver without a plan. I didn’t actually have much money saved up, either. But, I felt entitled. I thought that if I simply built something, if I started creating my own content, people would most certainly come.

They didn’t. Everything I’ve tried business-wise since I’ve been out here has been a complete and utter failure, which has led to a lot of personal anguish, some late nights, a little fear, and fortunately for me, some growing up.

In that respect, I don’t regret any of it. The lessons I’ve learned over the past 22 months have been invaluable, even if all they really did was take me and my ego down a few pegs.

At any rate, I’m finally done looking backwards. I’m ready to move forward.

My advice to you is this: start being an open book.

This is the biggest lesson I’ve learned over the past two years, and I hope it has an impact on you in at least some small way.

Like I said, I don’t regret any of the turmoil or financial or emotional stress that came of it. If anything, I only regret not documenting those moments while I was in them, so my story could be of better service to all.

Why? Because that’s how you truly make it as a writer, artist, or content creator in this world, by being raw and honest — by being yourself.

Plenty of people can and do give terrible advice on the internet, all the time. Advice about life, business, success (even if they’ve never personally attained any), you name it. There is no shortage of facts or ideas which we can Google.

Stories are often a better conduit to providing those learnings. While stories can obviously be true or false, or take on many different meanings, there is often something in there for everybody to learn.

Fortunately for you, that’s what I’m here to do now. I’ve barely even scratched the surface in terms of my personal story and the life lessons I’ve gained (in both the good and the bad moments) that can be helpful to you here.

My current hope is that in sharing them with you, and being raw, honest, and vulnerable in the process, it will only serve to benefit us both in the end.