Your Next Level May Require a Different Version of You
- Aug 21
- 5 min read
Running a small business often means being the Chief Executive Officer (CEO), marketer, accountant, and customer service team all at once. But trying to do everything alone can lead to burnout, stalled growth, and missed opportunities.
We spend a lot of time talking about getting to the next level. The next level in business. The next level financially. The next level in our careers, relationships, leadership, and lives. We set bigger goals. We create new plans. We ask for greater opportunities. But lately, I’ve been thinking about a different question: What if the next level doesn’t just require you to do something different? What if it requires you to become someone different?
That realization hits differently because becoming great requires more than adding something new to your life. Sometimes it requires leaving something behind. That part of growth doesn’t get talked about enough.
Some people are meant for a season
One of the hardest things about growth is realizing that everyone who started the journey with you may not finish it with you. Facts.
That doesn't necessarily mean someone did something wrong. Some friendships are connected to a particular season of our lives. They were exactly what we needed at the time. We laughed together, struggled together, dreamed together, and created memories that will always mean something.
But then something changes. Your priorities change. Your conversations change. Your vision gets bigger. The things you once accepted no longer feel acceptable.
Sometimes you realize you're trying to maintain a relationship based more on history than alignment. I've learned that you can appreciate what someone meant to your life without requiring them to be part of every chapter. Growth changes proximity. That doesn't make either person bad. It simply means you're moving.
Old ideas can become new limitations
People aren't the only things we outgrow. We outgrow ideas about ourselves. "I've never been good at that." "I'm not a risk taker." "That's just the way I am." "People like me don't do things like that."
Be careful with those statements. Say something about yourself long enough, and eventually it stops being an observation and becomes a boundary.
There are things I once believed about myself that made perfect sense for the person I was then. But if I'm going somewhere I've never been, I can't continue using my past as evidence of what I'm capable of in my future.
At some point, you have to give yourself permission to contradict your old story. You can become more confident. You can become more disciplined. You can become a stronger leader. You can learn to speak up. You can change your mind. You can want more.
Every version of you was necessary, but not every version of you is meant to come with you.
Your next level may require taking risks
I've also had to rethink what it means to take risks. When we hear the word "risk," we often think about everything that could go wrong. What if I fail? What if I lose money? What if people don't understand? What if I'm not ready?
Those are legitimate questions. But there's another question we don't ask nearly enough: What could happen if I never try?
There is risk in moving forward, but there is also risk in standing still. There's a risk in staying in the same position because it's familiar. There's a risk in never making the call, never starting the business, never asking for the opportunity, never entering the room, and never betting on yourself.
I'm not talking about being reckless. There's a difference between reckless behavior and intentional risk.
I'm talking about recognizing that there will be moments when you have done the research, prepared yourself, considered the consequences, and you're still afraid.
Sometimes courage isn't the absence of fear. Sometimes courage is deciding that what could be on the other side is worth finding out.
Comfort can become a ceiling
This one may be the most uncomfortable. There is nothing wrong with being comfortable. We work hard to create stability. We want peace. We want security. We want to reach a place where everything doesn't feel like a struggle.
But comfort deserves an occasional inspection because sometimes what feels like peace is actually familiarity. Sometimes what feels like security is fear wearing better clothes.
I've started asking myself: Am I comfortable because I've created the life I want, or because I've stopped challenging myself?
There's a difference. The next version of you may require walking into rooms where you aren't the smartest person. It may require having conversations you've been avoiding. It may require asking for more. It may require hearing "no." It may require starting over in an area where you were once comfortable being the expert.
Growth has a way of making you a beginner again, and that can be humbling. But maybe that's exactly where we're supposed to be.
You may have to stop needing everyone to understand
When you begin changing, something interesting happens. People notice. Sometimes they'll encourage you. Sometimes they'll question you. Occasionally, they'll remind you of who you used to be. "You've changed." "You never used to do that." "Why are you doing all of this?"
For a long time, being told that you've changed can feel like an accusation. But maybe it shouldn't. Maybe the answer is simply: You're right. I have changed.
That's the point. If I'm asking for something I've never had, building something I've never built, and going somewhere I've never been, why would I expect to remain the same person?
Not everyone is going to understand your evolution, and they don't have to. You can listen to wise counsel without requiring universal approval. You can love people without allowing their comfort with the old you to determine the future you. You can move forward without writing a dissertation explaining why you've changed.
I'm still becoming great
I didn't write this as someone who has figured everything out. I'm living it. I'm learning what to hold onto and what to release. I'm learning when fear is warning me and when fear is simply telling me I'm outside my comfort zone.
I'm learning that growth can be exciting and uncomfortable at the same time. Most importantly, I'm learning that the next level isn't only asking more from me. It's asking something different of me.
A different level of discipline. A different relationship with risk. Different boundaries. Different conversations. Different decisions. A willingness to walk away from some things I once thought I needed, and the courage to walk toward things I can't fully see yet.
Maybe you're in that season too. Maybe something that once fit doesn't anymore. Maybe you're feeling uncomfortable in places that used to feel comfortable. Maybe you're questioning relationships, habits, beliefs, or boundaries you never questioned before.
Before assuming something is wrong, consider another possibility: Maybe you're outgrowing the version of yourself that was built for where you've been.
Your next level may not need a better plan from the current you. It may be waiting for the next version of you.
So I'll leave you with the same question I'm asking myself: If the next level of your life requires a different version of you, what are you finally willing to leave behind?
Read more from Bobby Goodman
Bobby Goodman, Principal and CEO of Goodman Tolbert
Bobby Goodman is an entrepreneur and advocate for small business growth who understands the realities of business from the ground up. Through firsthand experience, he shares insights on leadership, burnout, and the importance of delegation in entrepreneurship. In Wearing Every Hat: Why Small Business Owners Can't Do It All, Goodman explores the challenges many business owners face while trying to balance every role on their own.
