I built the machine.Now I’ll give youthe game.

Ten years inside. Eight weeks out.

I came home from doing 10 years and went straight back to all the same BS. Eight weeks later I was sitting on a bench in the middle of the day, more broken than I had ever been. I’d let everyone down. Hurt everyone again. I didn’t know how to make the pain stop, and I was convinced the world would be better off without me. I tried to take my own life, and by the grace of God, He wasn’t done with me.

That bench was the ultimate bottom. I was done taking, done hurting the people around me, and I was willing to do whatever it took to never go back to that again.

Whatever it takes stopped being a saying. It became the standard.

If you’re in that place right now, call or text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (US). You’re not done either.

Seven figures in three years.

I jumped into personal development like my life depended on it, because it did. I chased down the guys who were where I wanted to be and asked them to give me the game.

Three years in, the company was flying and my life looked great from the outside. The family, the houses, all of it. I was working 80 to 100 hours a week. And deep down I felt like a failure who was going to mess it up any minute. I had built the business. I hadn’t built the man.

So I started building my identity, with myself and with God. That’s where the This Is Me came from: a document I still read out loud every single morning.

At $5 million, I fired everyone.

I had let my culture grow toxic by tolerating BS. Not one big betrayal, a hundred small tolerations. So I burned it down.

I wrote out exactly what I was looking for in a perfect teammate. I set a minimum of $2 million per rep to earn and keep a seat. And I only wanted people willing to go all in, and stay all in.

It was the hardest call I’ve ever made. It was also the best business decision of my life.