When I was a kid, I had a dream: I wanted to be a game show host on television.
That dream is gone, but not forgotten.
Thirteen years ago, it came close to happening. I was in the pitch rooms of nearly a dozen major cable networks. I had a world-class agent who represented some of the biggest names in the entertainment industry. The production company I was working with had created hit shows that everyone would recognize.
The pitch was a television show based on Personality Poker. We had versions tailored to different networks. I even played the game in the rooms with top executives. For a moment, it felt like I was just one handshake away from seeing my name on the screen.
But the deal never materialized.
I can justify all the reasons why it didn’t happen. Wrong timing. Wrong network. Wrong fit. But at the end of the day, the truth is simple: it didn’t happen.
For a while, that felt like failure.
But as the years passed, I had an epiphany. I never actually want to be a game show host. I’m not even sure I want a television show, although I wouldn’t say no if the right opportunity came along.
What I realized is that I’m not an entertainer. I don’t want to be remembered for making people laugh or for running a game.
I want to be remembered for the impact I make.
And here’s the irony. The very thing I thought would launch me into entertainment—Personality Poker—is the same thing I’m focused on now that allows me to create real impact. It’s a game that makes a difference.
Personality Poker didn’t start as a game. It started as a serious assessment tool, with no cards and no gamification. Over time, it evolved into the fun, interactive experience it is today. But when we pitched it as a TV show, the focus was on entertainment rather than transformation.
That’s not who I am. I’m in the impact business.
And here’s the bigger lesson. Sometimes the goals we chase aren’t really ours. They are illusions, shaped by what looks exciting or glamorous. To me, television was the epitome of sexiness.
But the network executives closed that door.
However, what looked like failure in the moment was actually a redirection. It was a chance to pause and ask, “Is this really who I am? Is this really what I want to be known for?”
The answer to this question opened up new and better paths.
That clarity brought Personality Poker back to its roots. Not just a game. Not just entertainment. But a tool for creating lasting change. And that’s the legacy I want to leave.
Have you ever chased a dream, only to realize later that the real gift was being redirected toward who you are really meant to be?