Why False Validation Is Your Prison
The Inner Forge Series: Part 1 of 4
I still remember the flour on my hands and the weight of that pink apron when everything changed.
It was December, the busiest time of year in the bakery world. I was covered in cinnamon and exhaustion, managing operations across 57 stores in three states. Then this guy in a suit walks into my Cinnabon—probably five years younger than me—looks me up and down, and says:
"You don't look like you should be working for some Cinnabon."
The rage hit me instantly. Who the hell does he think he is? I wanted to grab him by his pristine collar and explain that I ran this entire operation. Hundreds of employees. Multiple states. I wasn't just "working at some Cinnabon"—I was the district manager, the guy who made everything run.
"He doesn't know that I run this entire company," I thought. "He doesn't know that I've managed three states, the entire company, essentially. He didn't realize that I've got hundreds of employees."
But as he walked away, still thinking I was just some bakery worker, something shifted inside me. This man saw me exactly as I appeared: dirty, covered in bakery flour and cinnamon, looking like I just worked at this one store.
And the painful truth? From his perspective, that's all I was worth—someone working at some Cinnabon.
The Illusion of Success
That moment forced me to confront an uncomfortable reality. I felt bigger than what I was actually doing. Despite not actually owning anything, I thought of myself so highly. I wasn't acting in the role I thought I occupied. I was inflated beyond my actual position.
The realization hit hard: "Am I the reason why I'm stuck making no money? Because I act like I'm more than I am, but I'm doing the same basic stuff as everybody else while trying to self-justify that I'm better than them?"
The truth was brutal. I literally was them. Sure, I ran that company. But I had no ownership of it. I was still:
Frustrated and angry
Stressed about money
Working endless hours
In the same position as a basic crew member
I was just a slave trying to justify that I was much better.
The Difference Between Psychological and Actual Ownership
Here's what I learned about false validation that day:
Psychological Ownership vs. Real Ownership
Psychological ownership: Taking mental responsibility without actual stakes
Real ownership: Having equity, shares, or actual control of the business
The test: If you can be fired tomorrow, you don't own anything
The truth: Your title doesn't determine your freedom—your equity does
I poured everything into that company, working to turn it around and make it more profitable. But because I didn't have actual ownership, that dedication didn't change my fate. Any raise would be for my efforts, not for the value I created. It would be "Hey, you did a great job. Here's a raise"—which, by the way, I didn't even get.
Without equity, I'd never get paid based on the company's actual growth. Yet I took so much psychological ownership when it was all an illusion.
How Ego Creates False Elevation
That day in the bakery, I discovered how ego keeps us stuck. It was a crazy realization—in that moment, I felt bigger than what I was actually doing. Because I thought so highly of myself, I believed I was above my circumstances even though my actions told a different story. I wasn't performing at the level I imagined. I was inflated far beyond my actual position.
The biggest revelation hit me like a brick: Was I the reason I was stuck making no money? I acted and felt like I was more than everyone else, but I was doing the same basic tasks while desperately trying to justify my superiority. The truth? I was literally one of them. I didn't own anything. I had nothing concrete to show for my inflated self-image. I was just as frustrated, angry, stressed, and underpaid as any crew member—yet I was acting like I was different because I "ran" the company. But running something you don't own isn't running anything at all.
I was a slave trying to justify that I was somehow better. When that man walked away, still seeing me as just another Cinnabon worker, it hit me: I was doing exactly what everybody else was doing. To him, I was just a basic crew member working at a little Cinnabon in a mall—because that's exactly what I was in that moment.
The hardest truth I had to face hurt deeply. I hadn't done anything to actually be better—I'd simply proven to somebody else that I was willing to be a better slave for them. My mindset was so egotistical, so self-righteous, so self-fulfilled and self-prophesying that reality had to slap me in the face. There I was: dirty, wearing a pink apron, still bald from the military with veins popping out of my arms, having gone from being a drill instructor in the United States Marine Corps to—despite "running everything"—essentially just working at a Cinnabon bakery in a mall.
Why Titles Without Equity Are Decorated Slavery
Let me be crystal clear about something most people never want to admit: The validation of being "the boss" without ownership is a dangerous illusion. This false balance kept me trapped, which is ironic because I've always been someone who takes ownership in everything I do. Most aspiring entrepreneurs are the same way—we love being managers, supervisors, team leaders, general managers, district managers, state managers. We act like these titles—CFO, COO, any executive position—mean we have ownership.
Here's the brutal truth: If you don't have actual ownership, you don't have ownership—period. Unless you're given real equity—15% of the company, concrete shares, something tangible—you're not an owner, no matter what your title says. You can be fired tomorrow. Your income depends entirely on someone else's decision, not the company's success.
The Title Trap
District Manager without equity = High-level employee
VP without ownership = Expensive servant
C-Suite without shares = Glorified worker
"The Boss" without equity = Decorated slave
The craziest part? I took so much psychological ownership in that company. I poured everything into my position, working tirelessly to turn the company around and boost profitability. But without actual ownership, none of that changed my fate. Even if I'd gotten a raise (which I didn't, by the way), it would have been for my efforts—not for the value I created. It would have been a pat on the back saying, "Hey, you did a great job. Here's a bonus."
But that's not ownership. That's not wealth building. I would never get paid based on the company's actual growth. Yet I invested so much psychological ownership in what was ultimately an illusion.
The "Never Again" Principle
That moment in my Cinnabon changed everything. Standing there in my pink apron, covered in flour, with veins still popping from my arms like the drill instructor I used to be, I made a decision:
"There's no way I'll ever be caught slipping up ever again."
From that day forward:
I will never be "just" anything
I will never be just a financial advisor
I will never be just a gamer
I will never be just a life coach
I will never be just a young Black man
I will never get caught just being anything
I committed to being exemplary in everything I do, in every aspect of my life.
The Ownership Test
Here's how to examine what you truly own versus what owns you:
Ask Yourself:
Can I be fired tomorrow? If yes, you don't own it
Does my income depend on someone else's decision? If yes, you're renting your lifestyle
If the company doubles in value, does my net worth increase? If no, you're building someone else's empire
Am I defending a title or defending assets? Titles are ego; assets are freedom
The Reality Check:
Stop counting what you control (it's temporary)
Start counting what you own (it's permanent)
Stop defending your position (it's fragile)
Start building your equity (it's freedom)
That pink apron became my reality check. Right there, covered in flour and cinnamon, watching another man walk away with a life I told myself I didn't want—but really, it was a life I didn't believe I deserved.
But breaking free from false validation was only the first step. Next week, I'll show you why the very things keeping you 'safe' are actually keeping you broke...
Ready to stop trading titles for freedom? This is part 1 of 4 in The Inner Forge series. Subscribe below to discover "Your Excuses Are Your Blueprint: The Success Machine Principle."
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