Validation, Valuation, and the Quiet Revolution of Doing Something for Myself

I’ve been sitting with something uncomfortable lately: this relentless pull toward more. More accomplishments. More recognition. More proof that I matter. It’s always been there, this engine inside me, and I’m not saying I want to kill it. But I’ve started asking myself why it runs.

The other day I told a friend about my writing. For the first time in my life, I’m pursuing something without building a business case around it. No monetization strategy. No platform play. Just me, trying to become the best version of a writer I can be - in my own mind, on my own terms.

Did I enjoy reading what I wrote? Did I enjoy writing it?

That’s it. That’s the whole rubric now.

I’ve shared some pieces with my wife for feedback, but I know with absolute certainty that I’m not writing these things for her enjoyment. She’d never willfully pick up essays on the topics I’m exploring. And that’s fine. Because for the first time, I’m doing something without seeking validation, valuation, or some form of transactional gain.

It feels strange. Almost disorienting. But also like the beginning of something true.

The Zero-Sum Trap

I love watching college sports. The appeal, at least until recently, was watching people compete to be the best versions of themselves. NIL arguments aside, I’m drawn to that purer version - athletes who weren’t in it for the money, just the love of the game. Even if some dreamed of going pro, many were simply there because competing made them feel alive.

But here’s the thing: it’s still zero-sum. Someone wins. Someone loses. The stakes are what make it fun, right?

This framework bleeds into everything. Maybe you don’t consciously try to “beat” someone for a job or a project. But I’ve spent most of my life seeking validation from others. The “attaboy.” The profound feeling of being noticed.

My therapist recently asked me to name times I’ve been deeply proud of myself. I struggled. Not because I haven’t accomplished things - I have, some pretty remarkable things - but because I wasn’t doing them for me. I was doing them to be seen.

The Identity Problem

Here’s what scares me: How many college athletes finish their careers and immediately face an identity crisis?

Would I, when I retire? Or worse, if I got laid off tomorrow?

I’ve seen those posts on Reddit. People devastated after losing their jobs. Sure, the initial fear is practical - how do I pay the mortgage? - but beneath the surface is something deeper. Their identity was tied to what they did. You can see the cracks, especially in people who’ve been laid off multiple times. The facade starts to crumble.

I don’t want to become that. Or rather, I don’t want to continue being that, because I probably already am.

So I’ve been telling myself something new:

I’m Cliff. I do many things. I enjoy some of them. I love what I do professionally. But it is not who I am. It is not my value.

I’m not sure how many times I have to say it - or write it on the mirror - before I believe it. But I’m committed to becoming it.

What I Actually Am

Here’s my attempt at naming what matters. Not what I do, but what I am.

I am a Husband and Dad. I love my girls and dogs at home. My wife, my daughter, our puppies - they’re my center of gravity. Whether it’s date night, movie night, game night, or watching my daughter rock it at volleyball, I love being present for this wild ride we’re on together.

I am a Creator. Code, stories, art for my D&D campaigns - I just love making things exist that didn’t exist before. The medium doesn’t matter. The act of creation does.

I am an Eternal Learner. I dig into almost everything that crosses my path. Not to be right, but to understand. I want to see the mechanics beneath the surface.

I am a Conscious Leader. I love helping others achieve great things, and half that battle is leading myself. I make plenty of mistakes and try to own them. But helping someone see the opportunities in front of them and break down the path to get there? That’s a superpower of mine.

I am a True Friend. My wife would tell you I make friends with everyone. In reality, I have a small handful of deep, meaningful friendships. My loyalty and genuine care for others is one of my favorite things about myself.

I am a Winner. Not in the zero-sum sense. I’ve had my share of bad moments, mistakes, and losses. But most people would look at my life and say I just win a lot. Luck, persistence, skill, intelligence - some combination has let me push through the muck and land in places most people only dream of. I don’t take that for granted.

Where I’m Headed

As I think about 2026, I want to build everything around this shift. Internal validation. Internal valuation.

A healthy focus on things that bring me joy - not because they’ll impress anyone or build anything, but because they fill me up.

Continued investment in my health and wellness.

And maybe, slowly, the quiet confidence that who I am is enough. Regardless of what I do.

That’s the work now. The real work.