What’s Your Damage?

When I was seven, my world fell apart. My parents split up, and in that moment, a little boy decided something must be wrong with him. That story—that damage—became the engine driving decades of achievement, ambition, and an endless quest for validation.

Why am I oversharing on a Thursday?

Looking back now, I see how that childhood interpretation of who I was and what I was worth shaped everything: my relationships, my leadership style, even how I built Arcbound. And I’d venture to guess that’s true of your childhood damage too. We often talk about healing our hearts in romance, but what about healing the ways we lead, create, and build?

The Hidden Hurt

Most founders I know carry some form of childhood wound. Divorce. Loss. Never quite fitting in. These early cracks don’t just fade with success—they often fuel it. We sprint toward future achievements, collecting validations like Valentine’s cards, hoping each acquisition will finally make us feel whole.

Beyond the Band-Aids 

Building a company from unhealed hurt creates ripple effects. Our unprocessed pain shapes company cultures, team dynamics, and how we measure success. When we’re running from our past, we’re not really creating the future—we’re trying to fix it.

I’m learning (slowly, imperfectly) that true leadership starts with facing what we’re running from. Not to mend it completely, but to understand how it drives us. To build not from our wounds, but from our wisdom. When we do this, it can ultimately create trust – in ourselves, our people, and our customers.

So, with all that in mind, I want to offer these questions (consider it my V-day gift to you):

• What early story about yourself still drives your decisions today?
• How would you lead differently if you felt fundamentally worthy?
• Where in your organization do you see your unhealed patterns playing out?
• What would change if you built from awareness instead of old wounds?
• Who could you become if you stopped trying to prove your worth?

This Valentine’s Day, maybe the most revolutionary act of love isn’t buying flowers or making dinner reservations. Maybe it’s finally turning around to face what we’ve been running from, and changing how we lead from that new from place of awareness.