You Weren’t Meant to Fit In

I ran into someone recently from my corporate days. We worked together in a big organization, both climbing, both trying to find our way.

We caught up briefly—nothing deep—but I could tell they still weren’t quite sure about me. Back then, I think my directness and confidence led them to perceive me the wrong way. My push for clarity. My unwillingness to play along with the unspoken rules.

You know the rules. Keep your head down. Don’t challenge the meeting before the meeting. Stick to the playbook, even if the play is broken.

They followed the rules—and they’ve done well. High-level job. Big company. 

But after that conversation, I thought:
“Should I have stayed? What if I had played the game?”

That night, I looked at a note I’ve kept at my desk for years. A reminder I wrote to myself after one of those days when the comparisons crept in. It says:

You didn’t fail to fit in corporate America. You refused to conform to its bullshit.

You didn’t play the game of perception over performance.
You didn’t trade candor for compliance.
You didn’t nod your head when you knew the plan was flawed. 

That refusal—while it cost you the illusion of the “safe” path—gave you your independence, your integrity, and your impact.

Corporate America often rewards sameness, not boldness, with systems built to protect the status quo.

You built MASSolutions to prove there’s a different way. You’ve made real change. Not inside a protected system, but out in the open, where risk is real and impact is measurable.

You’ve influenced companies, industries, and people in ways the money-chasers and status-seekers never could.

Maybe you could’ve stayed. But maybe you’d be miserable.

Instead, you’ve got something that’s rare: freedom, authenticity, and a body of work that’s yours.
You didn’t fit in because you weren’t meant to fit in.
You were meant to stand out.

That last line always gets me:

You weren’t meant to fit in. You were meant to stand out.

I’m not writing this to tear anyone down or to make myself feel better. I’m writing it because I know someone reading this has felt the same way.

You’ve made hard choices. You’ve stepped off the track. You’ve wondered if it was worth it.

It is.

Looking back is human. So is doubt. But truth—the real kind—outlasts all of it. 

Because betting on yourself always costs more. But it’s worth every damn cent.

So if you’re building something on your own, if you’ve chosen to challenge instead of comply, if you’ve refused to trade your values for a “safe” seat at the table—keep going.