This One’s on Me

5/10/25 – Sitting in the living room. Sliding door cracked open. Birds are chirping. The waves break gently against the bulkhead across the street. The sun hasn’t risen fully, but the sky is already painted in soft pink and haze. It’s quiet. Still. A good place to tell the truth.

Last week, I wrote about stepping into a new version of myself—cool, calm, confident… still. A man learning to lead not with noise, but presence.

And for a while, I truly felt it.

Until Sunday.

Maybe I’m being too transparent here, but that’s just who I am. At this stage, it’s take it or leave it. And let’s be real—ownership doesn’t work without honesty. So let me say this upfront: nothing in this post is meant to criticize anyone or anything… except myself. And I mean that in the most self-loving way possible.

Sunday was our regional Gobundance event. A billionaire speaker. My mentor Jamie Gruber. So many of my closest people in one room. I felt lucky to be there. I even got a chance to speak—shared a few words about energy, and encouraged everyone to pay attention to how the room made them feel. To notice what shifted in them.

And that’s the part that hits hardest in hindsight.

Because the very thing I asked of others, I forgot to do myself.

The speaker didn’t land for me. His energy didn’t match the values this community holds dear. It felt more like performance than presence. And when he brought his business partner up, the whole thing turned into a pitch. To me, it felt like they came to serve themselves, not us.

The room shifted. The buzz changed. And I didn’t ground it—I fed it.

Instead of anchoring in stillness, I became reactive. I let myself get swept up in the murmurs, the critique, the quiet eye rolls. I gathered feedback, added my own. I mirrored the energy instead of redirecting it.

That’s when I slipped. And I didn’t even realize it.

Later in the afternoon, we broke into smaller groups. We got intentional. We listened. We served. And just like that, the energy shifted again. Back toward something deeper. Real.

But I left the day drained. Frustrated. Disappointed. Told myself the event had fallen short of the standard. That the room was off. That the structure didn’t serve us.

But the truth?

It wasn’t the event. It was me.

I wasn’t leading. I was absorbing.

Monday morning brought a fresh start—day one of the Austin Entrepreneurial Summit. This was my third time attending, and I showed up rested and ready. The crowd was a mix of guests and Gobundance members from all levels. There were moments that lit me up—especially my guy Bo Hawkins, who absolutely crushed it with a talk that was raw, real, and full of practical wisdom.

But again, I drifted into critique. This time it was more subtle, dressed up as feedback. As strategy. But underneath? Ego. I started offering up how I’d improve the event. What I thought it was missing.

That’s when it became about me.

It was my old high school teacher, Dr. Rick Peterson, who once told me, “Mr. Wakeman, when you speak, people listen.”

They were listening. And they were following. Right into judgment. Right into low vibration. And that’s not the kind of leadership I ever want to model.

By Tuesday, I was barely in the room. Most of the high-level guys were out in the hallways having deep, one-on-one conversations—and I joined them. And yes, there was value in those moments. But I wasn’t there to seek value. I was there to bring it.

And I didn’t.

I was serving, yes—but more than anything, I was serving myself. Feeding off energy instead of generating it. Reacting instead of leading. I told myself I was too tired, too tapped out. But really, I just wasn’t grounded.

Had I walked into that room with presence, with true power—not noise, not force—maybe the whole energy would’ve shifted. Not because I “saved” anything. But because that’s what real leaders do.

They don’t mirror the energy in the room. They rise above it.

And when they fall short? They own it. Apply it. And grow.

Looking back now, neither the regional event nor AES was “bad.”
There were powerful moments. Honest conversations. People showing up with heart.
The issue wasn’t the event—it was the lens I was looking through.

I was walking around in shit-speckled glasses.

And through that lens, I missed a lot. The table work that did land. The breakthrough moments that did happen. The connections that were right there, waiting to be deepened.

No event will ever be perfect. And that’s not the point.
Part of who I am—what lights me up—is the pursuit of growth. Of better. Of what’s next.
And if I’d been more grounded in that truth, I would’ve seen opportunity instead of flaws.
I would’ve been energized by the gap instead of drained by it.

What I’m realizing now is that this isn’t new for me—it’s a pattern. I’ve danced this line before. And if I’m serious about elevating into the next level of leadership, this is the lesson:
I have to pause. Reflect. Then speak. Then act.
That beat in between—that is the threshold. And if I can learn to hold it, I can lead from power.

This community means a lot to me. And I hold it to a high standard because it has given me so much. But that standard should be a mirror—not a weapon. And this week, the mirror showed me where I still have work to do.

I’m not here to be perfect. I’m here to be real. To keep learning. To lead better each time.

So I’m grateful for this moment. Grateful for this reflection. Grateful for the grace to begin again.

We don’t need flawless leaders.
We need powerful ones.
Present ones.
Honest ones.

Let’s keep growing.I don’t take it lightly that you give me a few minutes of your life to read these. Thank you.

—
Kyle

Living, leading, and learning out loud.

Song - Panic Last: Vwillz: I thought it was ironic that a line from the song is “have questions for the pharmacies” and on Youtube there was an ad for Ozempic…ironic. Was working last night and this song just hit me in the moment. I like the vibration.