Well y’all, I’m sitting here in the sun on a couch in dreamy California, thinking about what to write during my normal scheduled writing hour, when it suddenly hits me.

I didn’t write last week.

My first thought was annoyance with myself…. I have reminders and alarms and calendars and AI (and real) assistants! I committed to something; how could I not follow through? And just as quickly, I got annoyed at myself for being annoyed at myself. Why is my first instinct to put myself down?

I’ve heard for years that the most successful people are often their own harshest critics. But WHY? Why must we beat ourselves up so quickly? I’m not saying we should let ourselves off the hook for every little thing; personal accountability and self discipline should be core principles of our daily lives. But shouldn’t grace and compassion (yes, even for self) have an equally high stature of importance?

A tale of two stories, again

Remember a couple newsletters back, my tale of two stories? Both versions true; it just depends on which one you choose to move forward with.

This week is the same dilemma. Except this time, I’m not even going to bother with Version 1.

Version 2 looks like this: I spent 9 days in Bolivia serving others. I had a 38 hour travel day back home, arriving around midnight. On Sunday I still got my kids, went to church and family lunch, and went straight into dad mode; clothes shopping for two households, supplies, lunches, meal prep for the week. Then a crazy busy first week back to school,

with intense work stress, EO events, and never fully recovering from the travel weariness (IYKYK). All that, and still traveling to California on Saturday for some needed quality time with my girl….

So my first reaction to missing a self imposed deadline should be disappointment and frustration? Nope. Reframing it: Version 2 guy had a kick ass couple of weeks back to back, and he deserved a respite. My “massive” following of 200 people, who may or may not skim my random musings, will be ok…! :)

Why I’m even telling you this

Next week I’ll be back to business tips and stories, and possibly a mailbag issue where I can finally start responding to what some of you have asked me.

But today I just wanted to be encouragingly real. I thought about not mentioning the skipped week at all; just moving on, and nobody would notice. But that’s not what this is for. This is real life. We’re real people. And reality isn’t perfect. Sometimes we miss the newsletter.

Every time though, we focus on the good. And we give ourselves (and others) grace.

None of us are “there” yet. And we never will be.

P.S. For those of you that wanted to know… the clinic saw a total of 1685 patients last week in Bolivia!!

Talk soon,
Ryan
Not Quite There Yet Guy
CEO & Co-Founder, Knowledge Perk | Chair, Gravity Center Foundation | EO Charlotte

Well, friends and family, this one is a little bit different; I am writing to you from Bolivia!

I’m here on a medical missions trip through MMO with my sister. We got in country Thursday night, spent the weekend doing a little exploring and setting up a clinic, and today I got to see my first real patients come through. I’m running the autorefractor machine in the optical clinic and using a surprising amount of Spanish!

It’s already fairly rewarding. People come through who either need new glasses or have never had glasses at all. They find out we have something that matches their prescription, we get the glasses on them, and they see clearly for the first time in years. For some of them, for the first time in their whole life. It’s a truly incredible feeling.

As I was thinking through what to write this week, considering where I am and what I’d hope you get out of my trip, I realized a couple of things.

I want my kids to see me serving

I’m here, in part, because I want my kids to see me serve. I want them to know there’s more to life than building a business or going on fun trips and vacations. Yes, all of those things are important, and they all have their place. But I remember growing up with the ethic my mom and my grandparents instilled in me and my siblings about how important it is to give back. I remember all the Meals on Wheels we delivered. The volunteering in nursing homes. Working with other kids. Going on mission trips.

Not just to give back, but as a reminder of how truly blessed we are living in the United States of America.

I was able to get my kids their passports this summer, and I can’t wait to take them out of the country so they get a little enlightenment about how truly blessed they are. That’s part of this: setting the example. Not “do as I say,” but “watch, and let me show you why this is important.”

The business case nobody expects

There’s a business side to this too.

For years now, speaking in university classes and on panels, people ask me the same questions. What’s the number one piece of advice you’d give somebody going into entrepreneurship? What’s the best way to raise capital? (Something I’m fairly well known for being pretty decent at.)

Almost nobody expects my answer: volunteering. And I mean it.

Every person who has ever had a significant impact on my business or my life, and almost every single investor I’ve met, has come through some channel of volunteering. Boards. Nonprofits. Chambers, both in York County and in Charlotte. Incredible people met on humanitarian and mission trips….

Volunteering is a way to connect with people on a deeper level. Some of the wealthiest people I know don’t want to just give their money; they want to roll up their sleeves and do something meaningful. And when you work side by side with those people, it gives you a common interest and a common connection that cements a relationship far better than any networking event or business card ever will.

So not just for your kids. Not just for yourself. Even for your business: get out there and give. Find a cause or an organization you’re willing to put more than just your money into, and go serve.

Your turn

Where do you serve, or where have you been meaning to start? Hit reply and tell me; I read every single one, even from a clinic in Bolivia.

As for me, the rest of this week is right here: practicing my Spanish and lighting up a room with smiles, for people who for the first time may get to see me smile back at them clearly.

With love, until next week. Always moving forward, because we’re never quite there.

Ciao,
Ryan
Not Quite There Yet Guy
CEO & Co-Founder, Knowledge Perk | Chair, Gravity Center Foundation | EO Charlotte

Hey y’all,

The last couple issues have been fairly business heavy, so this week we’re going a slightly different direction. Still vulnerable; but this one is about family, fatherhood, and something I think a lot of guys struggle with in general.

So here it goes!

The week everything came at once

This was a difficult last week, in that I really felt like everything was coming at me all at once.

I’m heading into my second week of having my kids two weeks straight as part of my 50/50 custody schedule with my ex-wife; we each get two weeks in the summer. Last year I did a huge two-week road trip with them, which many of you saw on my social media. This year, I just didn’t have the capacity. We did have a fun weekend visiting my best friend in Atlanta, but there’s a part of me that felt guilty that I didn’t do as much as I did last year.

I think that’s a pressure a lot of parents carry in general: every year, we have to one-up the year before. I don’t believe that’s actually the case. I think we need to teach our kids about life and about balance. Some years, just like some days, have more in them than others.

But I digress. What got to me this week was the overwhelm. Work coming at me in every direction. So many things happening with the foundation I chair. Social engagements. Trying to still take care of myself. Trying to be present in a long-distance relationship. Having the kids for the summer. And even coordinating with my son’s behavior therapist, who supports Jaxon at home and in school; one more thing to manage, even when it’s a good thing.

(For those newer here: Jaxon is on the autism spectrum. How we’ve learned to work with him, and everything he has taught ME, is another issue I’ll be writing down the road. It’s very personal; but it’s important to so many families trying to navigate the same thing.)

I found myself getting short with them. And I realized I actually had to apologize to my kids.

A couple of things came out of this.

1. It’s okay to admit you’re overwhelmed and ask for help.

We know this as parents… I think? But specifically as guys, as dads, we carry the weight of everything usually silently, including fatherhood. And sometimes it really does just get to you. That doesn’t mean you’re a bad dad or that you don’t care for your kids. Life is heavy, and we have to be able to manage that. Sometimes asking for help is part of managing it.

2. It’s okay to apologize. In fact, we should.

One of the things I’ve learned is that some of the best teaching moments are catching my OWN mistakes, letting the kids know why it was a mistake, and apologizing. It’s so easy to get aggravated or frustrated with the kids and use their mess-up as the teaching moment. I’m starting to really see it’s more impactful to use my own instead.

3. Have more than one outlet for yourself.

That can be anything. Run to ATL to visit you best friend and eat your way across the city!! (see below haha)

Escaping for a quick round of golf. Quiet time alone with a book while the kids go do something on their own. It could even be therapy (Ya, I said it).

I’m actually going to talk about therapy in a couple of issues, because I think it’s a massively taboo subject for dudes; so many guys are afraid to admit they need it and feel like it will make them look weak. I’ve been there. I come from a strong background where it was not ever talked about. But it’s been such an important part of my journey and my life in the last couple of years, and I highly encourage it. Try it.

If you guys will allow me, I’ll dive down that road and be very vulnerable about my own experiences in therapy. What made me seek it out, and why I’ve continued (or restarted) it multiple times over several years, including most recently. Hit reply and tell me if you want that issue; that’s all the permission I need.

What I actually did about it

All that to say: it’s normal to be frustrated. It’s normal to feel overwhelmed. What’s not normal, or at least what should be talked about, is not doing anything about it.

This week, I took the kids with me and played a little golf at the local simulators, just to get some sanity back. I spent Sunday lunch with the family. I took Saturday off and didn’t do anything except rest on the couch and watch movies with the kids. I scheduled my next therapy appointment. And I talked to the kids about the lessons learned this week, and apologized for being short with them when I knew they didn’t deserve it.

I made a lot of mistakes this week, and sometimes it still gets to me. But I also learned some more lessons. I’m sharing this with each of you in hopes that it rings true and gives you some encouragement that you may not be the only person feeling this way.

Your turn

What moments have you had with parenting or overwhelm, and how did you cope with them? Hit reply and tell me. I read every single one; and after the mid-year issue, I know some of you have stories.

Not quite there yet. Never will be. And that’s really the whole point.

Keep building. Keep going.

Talk soon,
Ryan
Not Quite There Yet Guy
CEO & Co-Founder, Knowledge Perk | Chair, Gravity Center Foundation | EO Charlotte

Hey y’all,

I’m sitting on my couch tonight contemplating what to write, and so many things come to mind. My recent time in California. The World Cup match I got to attend in Houston. The business rollercoaster this week has been (trying to acquire another company is as frustratingly exhausting as it is exhilarating). But what keeps rising to the top is gratitude…. because of a panel I got to speak on this week.

A friend reached out a couple of times about getting me on it. And while I’m always excited for the opportunity to speak, as it got closer I caught myself frustrated with ME for saying yes to another thing. Then the event was executed beautifully, and I was so grateful for the invite.

What’s even crazier, and what still humbles me: the number of people who reached out afterward. They appreciated my story. They wanted coaching or mentoring. They’d been watching for a while and wanted to volunteer. You name it. I think I got five different direct reach-outs from fifteen minutes of talking.

So that’s the inspiration for tonight…. to keep pouring into what I said my why was: making it easier for the next generation of entrepreneurs. Which brings us right back to something I put on the list a couple issues back…

Personal guarantees. Welcome to Done Dumber Things #2.

What we signed

Here’s the thing: what my partner and I did wasn’t necessarily dumb. What was dumb was not fully understanding what I was signing and how it could impact me down the road.

By that point I’d already signed a personal guarantee on an equipment loan. (There’s a long story behind that one; it’s actually part of the reason my former business partner is no longer my current partner. I’ll save it for the larger story.) The point is, I had a decent amount of debt attached to my name, and I didn’t realize how those guarantees were quietly making everything else harder for me financially.

Fast forward to one of my business partners and me signing our first lease together, and we had to personally guarantee it. In the moment? Exciting. New location, let’s go.

Then you look back and realize what you actually did: you committed yourselves, personally, to paying that lease in such a way that even if the business failed, he and I were still on the hook. Not the company. Us.

What nobody tells you

Almost every landlord and lender asks for this now, and most entrepreneurs don’t know there are other ways. Three, at least:

1. You don’t always have to sign it. A personal guarantee is a negotiation, not a law of nature. Sometimes pushing back works.

2. A corporate guarantee. The business guarantees itself. What they don’t tell you: you need real company maturity and solid financials; nearly impossible as a startup, but it’s where you’re headed. We don’t personally guarantee leases anymore, though getting away from them at the bank is still almost impossible until the company is a little bigger.

3. Leverage an investor. Have them guarantee the lease or loan. They’re far more likely to do it for a loan backed by collateral (equipment, real estate) than a lease. But it’s a legitimate tactic to bring to the table.

The part that follows you home

Here’s what I really didn’t understand then: it wasn’t just a bigger commitment than I realized. It compounds.

Every loan we’ve signed with a personal guarantee, plus that lease, adds up; and the bank sees the total when it sizes up our fiscal responsibility. Every new thing we try to do carries the weight of every old thing we signed.

And it doesn’t stay at the office. It can make it harder to buy a home. I watched that happen up close: one of my business partners recently had to purchase his house primarily through his wife…. for this exact reason.

Beyond the financial complications (and even the legal ones down the road), there’s a layer of mental stress that comes with knowing that if your business doesn’t work, you can’t just walk away. You’re responsible for your financial obligations, your payroll, your employees, your own personal finances; and you may be personally liable for the debts and leases on top of it. It’s a sobering weight if you’re not ready for it, and if you don’t understand what you’ve committed to and what the plan is for making sure your personal guarantee is never actually needed.

I’m not saying never do it. I’m saying it’s complicated. And you deserve to know that going in.

Some news (okay, two pieces of news)

I promised to help you through issues like these based on my own past mistakes and learnings. That’s a big reason I moved to Substack. This newsletter is always going to be free, and I’m going to keep putting free resources out there. But I’m now also offering a paid subscription at two levels, and I’ll be stocking a VAULT with things I’d love for you to have: my operating agreement checklist, my personal guarantee audit (it drops with this issue), plus plenty more I’m building to make your lives easier.

And the second piece: enough of you voted. It’s official. We’ve moved from Still Going to Done Dumber Things.

My dumber things are your gain as I keep building a vault of entrepreneurial resources that help you take it to the next level without making the same mistakes I did.

Your turn

I’ve compiled a list of every question that’s come in so far, and over the next couple of issues I’m going to start answering each one. So tell me: what else do you want to know? Entrepreneurship, startups, building a business, fatherhood, dealing with life in general…. I’m here for all of it.

Hit reply. I read every single one, and I love the thoughts you guys share with me every week.

Keep building. Keep going. None of us are quite there yet.

Talk soon,
Ryan
Not Quite There Yet Guy
CEO & Co-Founder, Knowledge Perk | Chair, Gravity Center Foundation | EO Charlotte

Welcome to the Vault; the practical companion to every Done Dumber Things issue. Each lesson I write about ships with something you can actually use. This post is the master list; it gets updated every time a new item drops, so bookmark it.

No. 001 - The Operating Agreement Checklist (companion to Issue 004)

Every question your OA should answer before you need it: the exit, the what-ifs, the day-to-day, and the red flags.

Read more

Hey y’all,

We’re halfway through July, and more than halfway through the year already. That doesn’t seem possible, and yet here we are.

So let me ask you: are you where you thought you’d be?

I’m not. I’m both ahead of where I expected AND further behind. Makes perfect sense, right?

Stay with me.

The mirror I wasn’t ready for

I said when I started this newsletter that I was going to be vulnerable and honest, and damn sometimes that’s harder than I thought it would be. Sitting down on Sunday to write has become a mirror I wasn’t ready for.

When I think about what to write, a couple of things always bubble up to the surface and get instantly rejected as TOO honest. And then it hits me: those are probably the exact things someone else is struggling with too.

Like this mid-year check-in. I’m not where I want to be, and that frustrates me. But then I have to start digging deeper. Were my goals realistic and achievable? Were they tangible and intentional?

Because here’s what I recognize in myself: I chase perfection, then deal with resentment and frustration when I don’t achieve the result I wanted… usually in a wildly unrealistic time frame.

The first story

My business is struggling with cash flow issues I haven’t solved. My kids are growing and changing, and I don’t have every answer. My long-distance relationship forces me to confront insecurities and deal with hard issues. My routines aren’t perfect. I haven’t learned French. I don’t have my pilot’s license. My physique isn’t where I want it. On and on and on… all the things wrong.

The self-inflicted pressure to do more and be better, and then the guilt when I’m not where I wanted to be at some arbitrary point in the year.

Why? I think society and social media (especially for entrepreneurs) put a pressure on us to grind and hustle, usually at more personal harm than gain.

And I’m recognizing that. Which is exactly why I’m further ahead than I thought I’d be.

The second story

My business is growing. My team is amazing, and my business partner is a real partner (and a friend!). My kids are growing, and I’m growing with them. I’m not perfect, but I’m a damn good dad, and I try.

I met the most amazing woman. Relationships are hard, and distance is just an excuse. What a privilege to have access to therapy to work through my own stuff, to resources, and to a girlfriend who’s also an entrepreneur and “gets it.” I get to be in love again…how cool is that?!

I started French! Slow and steady wins the race. I’m studying for my pilot’s license; while building a company and being a dad and a boyfriend and volunteering and living a beautiful life. So who cares how long it takes?

And I’m in the best physical shape I’ve been in in years. Down 20 pounds, eating clean, stronger than ever.

Same seven months. Two different stories. One outlook shift.

Grace

If I’ve learned anything recently, it’s to be kinder to myself and allow myself grace; honestly, to hell with what anyone else thinks.

So… I asked if you were where you thought you’d be, and maybe your answer was no. Now read your year the second way. What’s your answer now?

Be kind to yourself. We are all just climbing, and none of us are quite “there” yet.

Your turn

Here’s this week’s homework: tell me both stories. The one where you’re behind, and then the same seven months told the other way. One thing that hasn’t gone to plan, and one thing day-one-of-January you would be proud of.

Hit reply and send me both. I read every single one.

Still…. not quite there yet ;)

Talk soon,
Ryan
Not Quite There Yet Guy
CEO & Co-Founder, Knowledge Perk | Chair, Gravity Center Foundation | EO Charlotte

Quick housekeeping first, then I've got something I've been wanting to build for a long time.

Still Going has a new home. This newsletter now lives on Substack, which means every issue (past and future) lives in one place, you can comment and share, and if somebody forwards this to you, you can join us at the new address:

donedumberthings.com

Yes. That's really the address. I own it, I love it, and if you know me, you know why it fits. More on that in a second, because it's not just a funny URL… it's a foundational piece to something I have been working towards for a while. (I even thought about naming my newsletter "Done Dumber Things"... should I? Hit me back and let me know!)

You don't have to do anything. Your subscription came with me. Hit reply anytime; that still works exactly the same, and I still read every one.

The new series: Done Dumber Things

Here's what I've realized after eight years of building companies: nobody hands you the damn list.

You know the list I mean. Not the "write a business plan, follow your dreams" list. The other one. The list of things that will cost you six figures because nobody told you they existed until you were already bleeding. The list of things that stop your heart and make you question why the hell you started all of this in the first place.

I've paid tuition on that list. Multiple times. So starting with this issue, I'm launching a series where I walk through my experiences; item by item, story by story, scar by scar. I am still going to talk about life and fatherhood and random things on my heart, but some issues will be specific to the Done Dumber Things series. What happened to me, what it cost, what I'd do differently, and eventually, the actual people and businesses I trust and personally use to handle each one. Not affiliates or sponsors. Just the people who actually helped me.

Fair warning: I'm going to be honest about how dumb some of this was. Hence the name.

Let me tell you about my two business divorces (wow I have been divorced alot…smdh)

The first one, years ago with the first business I started: my partner and I stopped seeing eye to eye on the direction of the business. There was no real framework for what happens when partners disagree. So ya know what I did? I basically gave away my half to avoid the conflict.

Read that again. I handed over half a business (that still exists to this day) because having the hard conversation felt more expensive than walking away. It wasn't. It never is. That decision cost me my equity, and worse, it taught me nothing at the time… because I told myself I was "keeping the peace."

The second one hurt more and cost less. Let me explain how that's possible.

In 2021, my original partner at Knowledge Perk and I reached the end of the road together. This was a man I'd shared years of friendship with. Watching that unravel hurt in a way I wasn't prepared for and being completely honest, the process brought out a version of me that was angry, anxious, and checking my email at moments I shouldn't have been. (True story: one of the negotiation emails landed while I was at a Rolling Stones concert. A mentor of mine, in language I'll clean up for print, told me to “put my #&*!@* phone away and deal with it in the morning.” He was right.)

The buyout took over four months. It ended a multiyear friendship. And it was still the best-case version of that story because this time, I had an Operating Agreement.

Your Operating Agreement is divorce papers for your business… written back when everybody still loved each other.

People think an OA is paperwork you sign when you form the LLC and never look at again. Wrong. Mine laid out exactly what happens when a partner wants out: how the offer gets made, how the members consent, how the terms get structured. When everything got emotional (and holy hell did it get emotional and personal) the document didn't care. It just gave us a process to execute and a roadmap to follow.

Without that OA, I'm convinced that fallout would have cost me HUNDREDS of thousands more than it did. With it, the whole thing stayed bounded, unemotional (on paper, anyway), and finished.

That painful buyout became the framework for every partnership since; including my current partnership with Jordan at KP, which is the best one I've ever had. Not because we agree on everything; we don't (and he's usually right). Because the rules were clear before we ever needed them.

The list nobody hands you

Over the coming issues, we're going through all of it. In no particular order:

• The Operating Agreement — your business divorce papers (this story, in full)

• The right accountant setup — bookkeeper vs. CPA vs. CFO, and why you probably need all three doing different jobs at some point in your business journey.

• Real legal representation — finding the attorney who redlines the contract before you're in trouble, not after

• Your IP framework — we once discovered our own trademark was sitting in the wrong entity. Fun conversation.

• Other people's money — investors, and the strings nobody mentions until the check clears. Every dollar comes with opinions, expectations, and a seat at your table. Some are worth every penny. Some cost you more than the money ever helped.

• Buy-sell agreements — and actually funding them — what happens to a partner's equity if they die, quit, or walk away, and where the money comes from

• Key man coverage — what happens to revenue if the person who IS the business can't work

• Personal guarantees — the debt that follows you home, and your family, if you're not covered (this has caused so much stress)

• Disability and income protection — before 65, a long injury or illness is statistically more likely than death. Nobody plans for it. Run your own business and don't have it? You're wrecked.

• Succession and estate planning — what happens to the business, and your family, if you're not there

• Side agreements and handshake deals — if it's not documented, it doesn't exist. Ask me how I know.

• Banking relationships and credit lines — the money you set up before you need it, because when you need it, it's too late (You'd think I would have learned this the first 17 times)

• Separating personal and business finances — the boring one that blows everything else up if you skip it

Some of these I learned the hard way. A couple I got right by dumb luck. All of them I wish someone had put in front of me on day one.

Do this one thing before the next issue

I attached a free tool that walks through 11 of these exact questions: partners, buy-sell, key man, guarantees, succession… and shows you where your gaps are. It takes about 3 minutes.

Full transparency: it's from Ember, my insurance company. That's exactly why the recommendations in this series are going to be worth something; I'm not writing about this stuff as a spectator. This is some of the work I actually do now, largely because of everything above. From the companies I've started out of my own need to fulfill what I was missing, to the work I do with the foundation I Co-Founded, I have a real and authentic desire to help others do more with fewer failures by learning from my own experiences and those of others close to me.

Take the 3-minute Business Risk Audit →

Business Risk Audit

Count how many times you answer "not sure." That number is your homework.

Your turn

What's the thing that blindsided you? The clause you didn't have, the coverage you didn't know existed, the handshake that fell apart? Reply or leave a comment. I read every single one; and your story might become an issue in this series.

Still going. Always will be.

Talk soon,

Ryan

Not Quite There Yet Guy

CEO & Co-Founder, Knowledge Perk | Chair, Gravity Center Foundation | EO Charlotte

Hey y'all,

I know this was supposed to be bi-weekly. But I promised to keep this real and authentic and this one's been sitting on me, so I'm sending it while it's still fresh. (And yes, I got all of your responses from last time. I promise I'm going to write about every single one. I just needed to get this to you first.)

I'm going to tell you something I spent a long time pretending wasn't true.

Somewhere along the way, I got jaded by business.

For years I'd have told you it didn't bother me. That's what we do, right? Thick skin, keep moving, don't let them see it land. But if I'm being honest (the whole point of this newsletter) it bothered me a lot.

When we started Knowledge Perk, we had this huge rush of customers. People showed up, fell in love with the place, made it part of their routine. And over the years since, we've lost some of them. Dozens of core regulars. Hundreds of customers in general.

A lot of that is just business. Attrition is normal. New competition opens up. People move, habits change. I get all of that, and I made peace with it a long time ago.

What I never quite made peace with is the other kind.

The kind nobody warns you about

Some people don't leave over the coffee or the service. They leave because of something they think I said. Or did. Or some slight they perceived that I'm not even aware of.

We've had people decide I was homophobic or transphobic — never mind that some of our very best supervisors have been trans, that we openly and respectfully support people's right to live how they choose, and that two of my closest friends in this world are gay men I love dearly. None of that registers. But we hosted a worship night in our space a couple of times, so clearly I must be a hardcore extremist. People will build an entire version of you out of one data point and walk away from years of history without blinking.

I told myself that one didn't get to me either. Then last week, another customer left. Someone who'd been coming for years. Not over bad service, over a single decision I didn't make the way they wanted. And just like that, gone. Now posting about their new favorite local spot like five or six years of history never happened. Overnight.

And yes… I know it's just coffee. It's not a big deal, right? But time after time after time after time, you can't help but notice. And all those little ones quietly add up into a big hurt.

It's not the first time. And I'll be straight with you: it's frustrating, it's hurtful, and it's a part of running a business that nobody tells you about when you start. It's honestly one more reason I stepped away from social media for a while. Everything gets politicized, dramatized, taken to the furthest extreme when most things just call for a little rationality.

It's everyone's right to take their business wherever they want. But pulling support from a local place over a perceived slight from one person? That one still gets me.

"Too big for your britches"

Here's the other flavor of it.

I've been told lately that I don't do enough for the community. That I've gotten "too big for my britches" by growing the business beyond Rock Hill. As if scaling a company that now supports close to 80 jobs is something I should apologize for. (And for the record; nobody's getting rich off coffee. Trust me.)

Never mind that we do more now than we ever have. I just don't broadcast it through the company, and I post less on my own accounts these days. So the assumption is we must've gone quiet.

The truth: over the last eight years, my companies have given back (very literally) hundreds of thousands of dollars. Coffee donations, support, and time poured into the greater York County area, and Rock Hill specifically.

And it's not just the money. A lot of it is that people don't see me around the way they used to. For years I was at every event, on every board, in the middle of everything happening in Rock Hill. These days I'm rarely there and people have noticed.

But that's intentional. It's part of growth. The honest truth is that Rock Hill can't offer everything I need to keep building anymore, and stepping into bigger rooms is how I keep this thing moving forward. What stings is that instead of cheering that on, some folks would rather hold me back for daring to leave the nest.

Never mind that I still chair a foundation I helped create specifically to fill an entrepreneurial void right here…one that quietly helps dozens of business owners every single year.

And yeah. It stings that none of that seems to matter. That you can pour into a place for years and still get forgotten the second something shinier shows up.

Then it hit me

I was taking all of this way too personally.

I was internalizing something that, at the end of the day, doesn't actually say anything about me. Other people's choices — where they spend their money, who they support — are not a reflection of my character. They're not even a reflection of my company. It just is life.

Some people are rude and shortsighted. Some are selfish. Some will burn you flat regardless of every bit of loyalty that came before. That's real, and pretending otherwise doesn't help anybody.

But there are also incredible people who support you no matter what. People who get how genuinely hard it is to run a small business, and who show up anyway. I ran into a friend recently who, honestly, preached at me a little. She reminded me that what we do still matters. That it's still my job to keep giving to this community and to be honest with other business owners about the fact that I got jaded, that I've been hurt, and that I'm choosing not to live there anymore.

So that's the decision. I'm going to keep giving back quietly. Keep being a good human on purpose. Keep building something I believe will have a real impact, something people are proud to be part of.

Like Steven Bartlett puts it: you can only control your inputs. The outputs aren't your responsibility, and they aren't your business.

That's a tough one for me. I'm still working through it. But I'm starting to believe that other people's actions shouldn't have a thing to do with my intentions. So I'm going to keep moving forward, keep supporting, and keep being as much of an encouragement as I can; including by just being honest about how hard a lot of this actually is.

Your turn

If you run a business or pour yourself into anything where people can walk away without explanation, I want to hear from you.

What's the part of it nobody warned you about? Leave a comment or reply and tell me. I read every single one.

Still… not quite there yet.

Talk soon,

Ryan

Not Quite There Yet Guy

CEO & Co-Founder, Knowledge Perk | Chair, Gravity Center Foundation | EO Charlotte

First things first.

Thank you.

I started this newsletter not really knowing if anyone would care, and the response blew me away. The subscribes, the replies, the messages from people telling me they felt seen by something I wrote… I had no idea. I didn't know how many of you were quietly carrying the same things I write about.

A bunch of you sent recommendations on what to write about next, and I promise I'll get to all of them. But this one's gotta be about today.

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there.

I love being a dad. More than anything. It's the best thing I've ever done and the thing I'm most proud of.

And I'm going to be honest with you, because that's the whole point of this thing… it's also the hardest.

Being a single dad on 50/50 custody is hard. Being a full-time entrepreneur on top of that makes it harder. Having a gorgeous, strong-willed 10-year-old daughter? Hard. Having a son on the autism spectrum who just became a teenager?

Whoa.

As Jaxon gets older and the hormones hit, he's been struggling in new ways, which means I've been struggling right alongside him.

Last week he had a meltdown in public. A real one. It was brutal, and it lasted over an hour.

And I'll tell you exactly where my head went, because I think a lot of dads will recognize it. I was embarrassed. Then I felt guilty for being embarrassed. I was frustrated. I was upset. I was anxious. Part of me wanted to yell which wouldn't have helped anybody. Part of me just wanted him to calm down, and if I'm being real, that part was selfish. I didn't want to deal with the scene. I didn't want the eyes.

And then it hit me.

Who cares.

Who cares if strangers think he's "throwing a tantrum." (Was there some of that? Sure. But it's a lot more complicated than that.) Who cares if people don't understand what they're looking at.

My goal used to be to look perfect, to make it seem like I had it all together. As I've matured, that's gone out the window. It's not to perform a perfect family with perfect kids. My goal is to be a dad; the best one I'm capable of being. My job is to help him through the rough patches. To support him when he's struggling and stemming, and to still parent him when he's just being a moody teenager.

Here's the thing about me trying to figure this out. My own dad left when I was young, and the example he set was a bad one. But I got lucky! I had a grandfather and a stepdad who stepped up to the plate when they didn't have to, and showed me what a good man and a present father actually looks like. I carry that with me every single day.

And still… even with those examples burned into me, I get lost sometimes. Times have changed. There's more noise now than there's ever been, more pulling at us from every direction. The men who raised me right didn't have to parent through all of this. So even standing on the shoulders of good men, I find myself unsure of the next move.

Like most dads, I don't always know the right move. But I do know that worrying about what everyone else thinks isn't it. Shut out the noise and do the best you can.

It's the same reason I took the socials off my phone. The same reason I block my calendar. The same reason I shrunk my circle of friends. None of that was about pulling away from the world… it was about getting clear on what actually matters and putting it first.

I still struggle as a dad. Same as I struggle in every other part of my life. But I'm slowly figuring it out, just like everyone else. And it starts the same way every time: by ignoring what the world around you says, and focusing in on what's actually important to you.

In that moment, what was important was simple. Just being the best dad I know how to be to Jaxon and Jasyn.

I'm sharing this for one reason; to be an encouragement to the dads out there carrying their own version of last week. We are never going to have all the answers. But we can support each other. We can be encouraged by other dads still pushing forward for the right reasons.

So let me ask you, and I actually want to hear it:

What's an area you've struggled in as a dad or a major win you've had? Leave a comment or reply and tell me. I read every one.

Happy Father's Day, gentlemen.

We're still figuring it out.

Still… not quite there yet.

— Ryan

Hey y'all,

Welcome to Still Going — the newsletter I probably should have started two years ago.

If you're getting this, you either signed up on your own (thank you), or someone who knows you thought you'd get something out of it (thank you to them too). Either way… you're here. So am I. Let's go.

Why "Still Going"?

Because that's the most honest thing I can say about where I am.

Not "I figured it out." Not "I've arrived." Not "here are my 7 steps to success." Just… still going. Still building. Still failing forward. Still waking up every morning choosing to keep climbing even when the top still feels far away.

That's what this newsletter is. A front-row seat to the real thing. No highlight reel. No performance. Just whatever I'm actually living through, and anything I pick up along the way that might be worth passing on to you.

Some weeks it'll be about entrepreneurship. Some weeks fatherhood. Some weeks raising capital, protecting your business, or navigating something I had absolutely no idea how to handle. Some weeks it'll just be something I saw or felt that I think you need to hear.

Where I've been

You may have noticed I went quiet on social media for a while. Over two months, actually.

No announcement. I just deleted the apps off my phone one day and kept living. And honestly forgot to put them back.

In that time I stood at the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland (and tested every Irish coffee I could get my hands on; in the name of research, obviously). I made multiple trips to California. I watched one of my best friends get engaged. I had some personal milestones that reminded me what being fully present actually feels like. I did spring break with my kids (Carowinds, Crowders Mountain, picnics) and now somehow it's already summer.

The best part? I barely took any pictures. I just lived.

And the freedom from not having social media drama on my phone every single day? Holy smokes. I didn't realize how much noise I had been carrying until I put it down.

I'm back now. But not like before.

I won't be posting just to post. Only when something actually matters. Only when I think it might help someone. That's the standard I'm holding myself to — and this newsletter is part of that.

One thing I learned while I was gone

Presence is a choice you make every single day. And most of us (including me) are choosing badly without even realizing it.

When I was at the Cliffs of Moher, there were probably 200 people standing at the same overlook. Beautiful, dramatic, jaw-dropping scenery. And I'd say at least half of them spent more time looking at their phone screens than looking at the actual cliffs.

I get it. I've done it. But standing there watching it happen from the outside was something else entirely.

The version of a moment you capture is never as good as the version you actually felt. The post you write about the experience is never as alive as the experience itself.

I think about this with my kids too. With the people in my life. With the conversations that matter.

Are you actually there? Or are you there-ish?

I'm choosing actually there. Starting now.

What I need from you

This newsletter only works if it actually helps you. So before I get too far into planning out future issues, I want to know; what do you want?

Leave a comment or reply and tell me. Seriously. I read every one.

A few prompts if you need them:

• What's the hardest part of your entrepreneurial journey right now?

• What business topic do you wish someone would just be honest about?

• What's something you're carrying that you haven't told many people?

• What would make this newsletter worth opening every week?

No wrong answers. I'm genuinely asking.

Coming up in future issues:

• How I actually think about raising capital (and what I wish someone had told me before I raised my first dollar)

• The $120 bet that turned into $900K — and what it really taught me about relationships

• Why I almost quit entrepreneurship three times — and what kept me going

• Fatherhood, business, and the impossible balancing act nobody talks about honestly

• Business protection basics that most entrepreneurs skip until it's too late

Still going. Always will be.

Talk soon,

Ryan

Not Quite There Yet Guy

CEO & Co-Founder, Knowledge Perk | Chair, Gravity Center Foundation | EO Charlotte