Welcome to Quiet Momentum, a weekly newsletter from someone on the journey alongside you. Each week I share what's working, what isn't, and what's worth thinking about.
As my 8th-grade year was winding down, I was asked to practice with the varsity basketball team.
Me? In 8th grade?
My school day shifted. My friends would tease me, calling me "varsity." Other classmates would be impressed and shower me with praise. I started to hear about all the potential I had. From classmates at first. And then from parents, as I transitioned to 9th grade with the full expectation of making varsity.
Looking back, I would've taken the teasing over the praise. I can still hear those words in my head like a sinister clown circling my brain on his tricycle.
"You have so much potential."
And when you hear it, you take it as praise. You hold your head a little higher.
It is praise. But potential is a trap.
When someone says, "You have so much potential," what they're really saying is: "You haven't done anything yet."
You could. But right now, you haven't.
And that's where the danger is. Because once you hear it, it's easy to start believing you don't have to prove anything. You're already being noticed. You can live in the maybe.
The more I heard this in school, the more dangerous it became. I was in the driveway nearly every day playing with friends, and when freshman year came around and I made varsity, it almost felt like I was some small-town celebrity. Not many made varsity as a freshman.
So what did I do with the praise?
Nothing.
I just took it as a compliment. It gave me confidence. I assumed my talent alone would carry me to the next level.
But it didn't. I didn't try to improve my game consistently. I didn't pair it with working out to build up my strength. Others began to catch up. My progress slowed.
And I didn't become what I could've been.
Looking back, I would've been better off hearing that I hadn't done anything yet. That would've brought out my competitive spirit and pushed me. No one wants to be told they're behind at something they care about. I would've wanted to prove it wrong.
This doesn't just happen in sports. It shows up everywhere.
You might be the hardest worker in the building. The one everyone knows will figure it out, but you've been in the same role for five years because you never asked for more.
You might be one of the sharpest people in the classroom, but you were never taught how to study, so your grades never showed it.
You might have a business idea you've been sitting on for three years. No one encouraged you, but you know. And somehow that's heavier.
And it hits harder when the voice telling you is your own.
You start working on yourself or a personal project. You work out, you read, you write, you think consistently. You can feel the growth accumulating.
And you start to believe you have the potential to get where you want to go.
But that can become its own trap. You can stay in the state of building and building without ever stepping forward.
I hit this speedbump myself in the past few months.
At the beginning of this newsletter journey, I read, I wrote, and I thought. I was putting in the effort nearly every day. It felt like I was well on the way. But nothing actually changed.
I spent months preparing before launching. It reached a point where I was ready, but I didn't want to take the next step. I kept telling myself I needed to know more. I needed a foolproof plan.
At a certain point, that wasn't helping me move forward. It was just another version of potential.
In high school, I trusted talent. Recently, I trusted my knowledge and growth.
It's the same mistake, just in a different form.
So how do you remove potential?
You act.
Once you act, it becomes something real. You can succeed or fail, but at least you've moved out of maybe.
Because potential protects your ego. Action exposes it.
Trade potential for proof.
Where in your life are you still living in the maybe?
The Line This Week
