There is no doubt that martial arts played a pivotal role in my gaining the confidence to give myself a chance. From my first karate class on February 12, 1974, I knew I had found my calling. In that first class at age thirteen, I knew this was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

As my competence in the martial arts improved, my confidence in many areas of life improved. I knew if I could learn to jump over two people and break three boards in the air with a flying sidekick, certainly I could learn to drive a car. Competence led to confidence.

In time, I was on my own, teaching around the area at various community centers. I taught an accredited college course for a few years, which was ironic because I never graduated high school. I used to joke that I dropped out of high school so I could teach college.

As a young man, I didn’t have many needs nor did anyone expect me to be well off. I could keep expenses low. So I always had a little cash in my pocket. Being a champion karate instructor brought with it all kinds of social benefits, from meeting girls to being treated like a local celebrity.

However, my friends at the time were following a more traditional path. They were going to college and/or working at jobs they hated. They always seemed broke, even though they put in horrendous hours to make any money. They were miserable at their jobs, but I loved mine. They were broke, but I always had some cash to play with. They would tease me about getting a real job, while envying my position.

Eventually, the contrast started to get to me. The Impostor Syndrome began to develop. I began to feel guilty about this great life I was leading. I started to doubt that I deserved it. One weekend, I was in Gainesville, Florida to have lunch with a former girlfriend.

Over a nice outdoor meal, I described to her my situation and my growing feelings of self-doubt and guilt.

“I work maybe three hours a day, Monday through Thursday. I make good enough money to get by. On the other hand, my friends are all working forty or more hours and struggling. How can that be?” She looked me straight in the eyes and said, “John, I know you. You wouldn’t accept anything less.”

There are moments in life that I call “emotional thresholds.” This was one of those moments for me. It was as though I had permission to design the life that I wanted, rather than follow the path of a fresh rat in the race. While it didn’t entirely erase my self-doubt, it gave me a surge of momentum in the right direction.

That sense of getting permission to live life on my terms was a huge moment for me, so let me share this with you right now: You, like me, have permission to create the life you want.