The “Void” Is the Fuel

(And No, This Isn’t a Self-Help Cliché)

I’m going to tell you a simple, unchangeable, and spectacularly-awkward-at-dinner-parties fact about my life.

I will never, ever hear my dad say, “I’m proud of you, son.”

I will never hear my mom say it, either. (She passed away in 2016 after 63 surgeries)

They’re gone.

And for as long as I can remember, that’s been a “void.”

A permanent, un-fillable, parent-shaped void.

The kind of backstory that, in a superhero movie, would be the entire reason I wear a cape and fight, I don’t know, “The Silencer” or something.

For years, I treated it like a liability.

A wound. An excuse. The part where you cue the sad violin music... preferably a very small, very sad violin.

I was looking at it all wrong.

The other day, it hit me like a lightning strike.

I was watching my kids, and I felt this almost desperate need to tell my Hunter, “I’m so freaking proud of you dude.”

I tell him every single day. I tell all my kids.

Then, hours later, I was on a coaching call, and I found myself pouring everything I had into an entrepreneur, being the champion they needed, and telling them, “What you’re doing is incredible. I’m proud of the work you’re putting in.”

And I suddenly realized: The void isn’t a void. The void is the fuel.

The reason I’m so obsessed with being a present father... The reason I am so driven to be that voice of validation for others... ...is precisely because I never got it myself.

My greatest wound is not my weakness. It is the source of my greatest gift.

The thing I needed most and never received is the one thing I am now uniquely, divinely qualified to give to the world.

That void isn’t a void.

It’s the entire engine for my mission. Which, frankly, is a way better plot twist than becoming a brooding superhero.

Your wound isn’t your excuse. Your wound is your ‘why’.

So many of us are walking around, defined by what we didn’t get.

The love.

The support.

The validation.

The “I’m proud of you.”

We let that lack define us. We let it become the reason we can’t.

The human-powered move?

It’s to look that void right in the face and decide to become the one thing the world needs most: The person who fills it for others.

You didn’t get validation? Good.

Go become the greatest validator of talent the world has ever seen.

You didn’t feel seen? Perfect.

Make it your life’s work to make other people feel seen.

You didn’t have a father to cheer you on?

Go be the father you always needed—not just for your kids, but for every person you’re called to lead.

That void in my life?

It’s not a void at all. It’s a perfectly-shaped container for my purpose.

I will never hear those words. And because of that... my kids will hear them every single day. The people I serve will feel it in every single call.

My pain didn’t break me. It built me. And it’s building my legacy.

Stop trying to fill your void.

Start using it as fuel.