At some point early in my entrepreneurial journey, I found myself repeating a simple question. I’m not sure if I heard it somewhere or if I made it up in a moment of self-doubt or stubborn belief. Either way, it stuck. It became a kind of private mantra, a provocation I used on myself—and over time, on others.
It goes like this:
Why not me for greatness?
Or when I’m speaking to someone else:
Why not you? Why not you for greatness?
It’s a simple line. Almost too simple. But say it out loud. Really—say it. And then sit with how it makes you feel.
For most, the first reaction is discomfort. It feels too bold, too presumptive. Who am I to claim greatness? Who am I to put myself in that category? It feels indulgent, audacious, even delusional.
But say it again. Let it linger.
Why not you for greatness?
That line has power—not because it assumes you're destined for greatness, but because it forces you to confront the invisible walls you've built around yourself. Most people don’t reject the idea of being great because they don’t want it. They reject it because it feels out of reach. Not for people like them. Not with their story. Not with their flaws.
But what if that hesitation—what if that self-censorship—is the only thing standing between who you are and who you could become?
This question is not a motivational gimmick. It’s a mirror. And what it reflects is the gap between your potential and your belief.
When you ask, “Why not me?” you start uncovering the layers. The limiting beliefs. The unexamined fears. The childhood scripts that say, “Play it safe,” or “Don’t stand out,” or “Know your place.”
Somewhere along the way, we’re taught that greatness belongs to the gifted, the chosen, the lucky few. But I’ve come to believe something far more empowering: greatness belongs to those who claim it. Not with arrogance, but with intention. With responsibility. With the willingness to do the work.
The more I asked myself that question, the more I started realizing how often I disqualified myself—not with facts, but with feelings. I assumed others had more talent, better networks, easier paths. I assumed I needed permission, credentials, time.
But all I really needed was belief.
Belief is the precursor to action. When you start believing that greatness is possible for you—not guaranteed, but possible—you begin behaving differently. You take bigger swings. You hold yourself to a higher standard. You stop waiting and start building. You stop apologizing and start leading.
And slowly, almost imperceptibly, you begin to transform. You become someone who lives with intention. Someone who owns their story. Someone who others look to not because they were chosen—but because they chose themselves.
Let me be clear: this question is not a pat on the back. It’s not a self-help affirmation meant to boost your confidence for a moment before fading into the noise of your day.
It’s a challenge.
It’s a call to examine the gap between your potential and your reality—and to take ownership of closing it. It demands reflection, accountability, and an honest inventory of what you want from this life.
You don’t have to be famous. You don’t have to be a CEO. You don’t have to start a movement or build an empire.
But you do have to stop disqualifying yourself from doing something exceptional. You do have to stop making greatness a category reserved for others.
Because greatness isn’t a label—it’s a way of living. It’s the posture you carry into your work. The courage you bring to your choices. The discipline you invest in your craft. The integrity you uphold when no one’s watching.
And yes, it’s also the belief that you are allowed to try.
There’s something strange that happens when you repeat a bold question long enough. At first, it feels foreign. Then it starts to feel familiar. And eventually, it begins to feel like truth.
That’s what happened to me.
I said it to myself so many times—Why not me?—that one day I stopped cringing. I stopped hesitating. I started answering:
There’s no reason why not. I’m willing to work. I’m willing to learn. I’m willing to fail and still try again.
And then I asked it of others. Entrepreneurs. Artists. Students. Teammates. Friends.
Why not you?
Some would flinch. Others would laugh. But the best conversations always came when someone paused, really considered it, and finally said…
“I don’t know. Maybe I could.”
That’s where transformation starts. Not with certainty, but with curiosity. Not with guarantees, but with the willingness to find out.
So here it is. The invitation. The challenge. The moment to pause.
Say the line to yourself. Right now.
Why not me for greatness?
Sit with it. Wrestle with it. Get curious about why it feels strange.
And then ask yourself: what would it take for me to believe it?
Because belief—real belief—won’t guarantee greatness. But without it, you’ll never get close.
And if you do the work, if you face yourself honestly, if you commit to the climb with discipline and vision and grace—then one day, someone else might look at your life and ask that same question.
Why not me?
And in that moment, your story becomes their permission. Your courage becomes their spark.
So I’ll ask one last time—and this time, say it like you mean it:
Why not me for greatness?
If today’s episode stirred something in you—if that question “Why not me for greatness?” landed in your gut—I hope you’ll sit with it. Let it linger. Let it push you toward something bold.
And if you haven’t already, take a second to follow or subscribe on Substack, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. These daily reflections are short by design—but they’re meant to shift something in you.
We don’t need more people waiting to be chosen. We need more people choosing themselves. I hope you’ll be one of them.
Until next time—believe in your potential, bet on your effort, and keep showing up with courage.
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