Melvin Varghese PhD's Linkedin Analytics

It’s so easy to get caught up in comparisons. How much are they earning? How fast are they growing? But one of the most freeing lessons I’ve learned is this: Success isn’t about keeping up with others. It’s about aligning with your own values. For me, success now looks like: • Time with family. • The flexibility to rest. • Building something meaningful for the long term. Like in nature, growth isn’t about speed—it’s about direction. What’s one way you’re defining success on your own terms? P.S. Hot mess hair day..but love my daily walk in the woods. 🙂

Building a business can feel like shouting into the void. Especially when you’re creating something new—like your first online course—and wondering if anyone will care. Last week, we wrapped up our latest mastermind cohort, saying goodbye to 5 colleagues who spent the past year with us. It reminded me of something I wish I knew earlier: 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲. When you surround yourself with people who truly get it—who understand the doubt, the excitement, the imposter syndrome—everything changes. People who started this mastermind as total strangers ended up as collaborators, accountability partners, and friends. And that’s not luck. 𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘁𝘆. Because no matter how smart or talented you are, your environment shapes your success. Find people who: ✅ Remind you why your work matters when you forget ✅ Celebrate the wins you almost brush off ✅ Challenge you (with kindness) to level up your work 𝗪𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲. Who’s been in your corner lately—cheering you on when things felt hard? Tag them. Tell them. Let’s flood this feed with gratitude. 💛

“𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘀... 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗺.” Someone said this to me during a recent call—and I totally understood. If you’re a therapist or coach who’s been serving others for years, chances are… you’ve got a million course ideas swirling around in your head. The challenge isn’t creativity. It’s clarity. After 10 years of course creation, here’s the checklist I now walk through—both for myself and when I mentor other therapist course creators. 👇 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝗜𝗱𝗲𝗮 𝗩𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 To help you go from “I could teach so many things” to “I know where to start.” ✅ 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗩𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 🎯 1. If I’m still talking about this 10 years from now, will I love it? Pick something you actually enjoy talking about long-term. 📚 2. Can I see this turning into more than a course? (A book, a keynote, a podcast, a movement?) 🧲 3. Do people already come to me for advice about this—without me prompting them? This usually means the market is telling you something. 📈 4. Is this topic growing—not stagnating? 💡 Use free tools like Exploding Topics to check for upward trends. 💰 5. Is there a specific group of people who need this and have the ability to pay for it? This isn’t about greed—it’s about making the effort sustainable. 🧪 6. Have people already paid me 1-on-1 for this (therapy, coaching, consulting)? Organic validation beats guesswork every time. 🧠 𝗕𝗼𝗻𝘂𝘀 𝗚𝘂𝘁 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗗𝗲𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗖𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 🌍 7. Are people already Googling or ChatGPTing this topic? 💡 Try AnswerThePublic or Google Autocomplete to see real-world questions people are asking. 🧠 8. Are there already courses on this topic? That’s a good sign. It means demand exists. Your story + perspective is what sets yours apart. 🪞 9. Does my lived experience give me a unique lens or story to teach this from? This is your edge. Don’t overlook it. 🛠️ 10. Can I outline 3–5 key lessons I’d teach right now, without overthinking? If the outline flows, the idea likely has legs. Creating a course is an act of service. But it’s also an investment of time, energy, and heart. And you want to create something that replaces or supplements your income. Choosing the right idea means you’ll stay in the game long enough to let compounding do its work. 💡 QUESTION: If you’re stuck between ideas… which one passes this test? P.S. If you're a therapist, be sure to also check out our Course Creator Starter Kit. Asking these questions and taking the time to validate the course idea is a huge gamer changer. https://lnkd.in/g_rJ5V2V

“𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝗳𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗶𝘃𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗻. 𝗠𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗮 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲.” That line from my friend Uriah Guilford stopped me in my tracks. Because it put words to something I’ve wrestled with for years. When I started Selling The Couch, I didn’t have a 5-year plan. I was an introverted Indian psychologist with a big heart to serve—and a quiet hope that maybe podcasting could be a way to do that. But the hardest part hasn’t been 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. It’s been 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨. As a first-gen Indian immigrant, I grew up watching my parents do the unthinkable. My dad stocked Walmart shelves and cleaned linens at the county hospital while studying for the bar. My mom worked 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. nursing shifts to give us a future. They didn’t talk about self-care. They survived. So somewhere along the way, I learned that stillness was risky. That if you weren’t moving, growing, adding more...you were falling behind. Even as STC grew, I’d find myself tempted: 💡 Should I launch a new course? 💡 Try this new platform? 💡 Add one more thing? But chasing “more” started to cost me clarity. It blurred my why. That’s when I decided to stop asking, Can I do this? And started asking: Can I sustain this? Am I building from alignment or from anxiety? That same question is top of mind again lately. Because I’ve been quietly discerning a new calling: 𝗘𝘅𝗲𝗰𝘂𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗜𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀. It’s something I’ve felt pulled toward for years—especially as someone who deeply understands the tension between ambition and ancestral expectation…between visibility and humility. But this time, I’m approaching it differently. Not from “prove yourself” energy. Not to fill a revenue gap. But to serve from overflow. To build something I can sustain over the next 10 years—not just the next quarter. Podcasting taught me that. By simply staying the course, I’ve been able to: 🎙️ Grow the show to 1.8M+ downloads across 100+ countries 🎓 Support 240+ therapists in launching podcasts and courses 🧘🏽 Design a business that leaves margin for caregiving, rest, and joy Here’s what I’ve learned: 𝗣𝗶𝘃𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝗮𝗱. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗽𝗶𝘃𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗼𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗱𝗶𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗮𝗰𝘁. And chasing clarity will always serve you better than chasing scale. So here’s my question for you—especially if you’re a founder, creator, or therapist stepping into a new season: 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿—𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘃𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻? 👇 I’d love to hear what you’re staying the course with right now.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗹-𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗲𝗱𝗜𝗻 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗲 (𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗶𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁) When someone lands on your profile, they see exactly two things before reading a single word: ✅ Your profile picture ✅ Your banner image That banner? It’s not just decoration. It’s your first impression. The quiet signal that says: “𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗳𝗳.” ...or… “𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗮𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗱 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗹.” 😅 For years, I treated my own LinkedIn banner like an afterthought—a pretty photo, some vague tagline, and I moved on. But here’s what I’ve learned now being here for 2.5 years: 👉 Your banner isn’t a background. It’s a 𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗯𝗼𝗮𝗿𝗱 for your brand. A clear, intentional banner: ✅ Instantly tells people what you do and who you serve ✅ Sets the tone for your whole profile ✅ Builds trust 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗮 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 A weak or generic banner? It creates confusion. And confused people don’t want to work with you, send clients your way, or invite you to speak or follow your work. I broke all of this down (with real examples!) in my latest podcast episode. If you want to stand out on LinkedIn—and turn profile views into real opportunities—I’d love for you to give it a listen. 🎧 📌 Check it out here: https://lnkd.in/eaZzEzpM

When I first thought about creating a course, I had one big fear: 𝗪𝗵𝗼 𝗮𝗺 𝗜 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀? I didn’t have all the answers. I was still figuring things out. And honestly? I worried people would see right through me. But then I realized something— 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚. When I launched my podcasting course, I wasn’t teaching theories from a book. I was sharing what I had personally experienced—what worked, what didn’t, and the mistakes I wished I had avoided. And that’s why it resonated. For example, 𝘄𝗲’𝘃𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 $𝟭𝟬𝟬𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗽𝗼𝗱𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗼𝗿𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽𝘀. But there’s no way I could create a video on sponsorship mistakes if I hadn’t lived through the awkward pitches, the underpriced deals, and the lessons learned the hard way. Real experience is what makes a course powerful. Not perfection. Not expertise. 𝗘𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲. So if you’ve been holding back from creating something because you feel like you don’t “know enough” yet... Remember: someone out there is a few steps behind you. And what you’ve already learned could be exactly what they need. What’s one experience you’ve had that could help someone else?

Likes and follows feel great, but they aren’t the same as validation. True validation comes when people are willing to pay for what you’re offering. That’s when you know your idea has real value. Before creating my course, I focused on serving therapists through paid consults. That helped me see there was a genuine need—and gave me the confidence to scale. How do you test your ideas? What’s one way you’ve validated an idea recently?

The Scalability Problem As therapists, we’re taught to trade time for money. One session, one paycheck. But what if you could help more people without sacrificing your time? In my latest podcast, I talk about why online course creation might be the next step for you—and the key mindset shifts that helped me break free from the "one session = one payment" model. 👉 I recently recorded a podcast on this topic. Would love for you to listen. https://lnkd.in/e9u3UqZ2

𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗜 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝘁 𝘂𝗽 𝗺𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗲𝗱𝗜𝗻 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗲, 𝗜 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿. I listed my degrees, my licensure, the jobs I held. A few bullet points about my work. Then I hit save... and hoped someone would find me. If I’m being honest, the whole process felt uncomfortable. I didn’t want to “market” myself. I didn’t want to brag. And I definitely didn’t want to come across as salesy. So I treated LinkedIn like a 𝗱𝗶𝗴𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗲—because that felt safe. But here’s the truth no one told me back then: 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗲𝗱𝗜𝗻 𝗶𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗲. 𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝗮 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗽𝗮𝗴𝗲. And if you want clients, speaking gigs, podcast invites, or course sales? That “landing page” needs to do some heavy lifting. Over the past 10 years of building a business beyond the therapy room, I’ve learned: ✅ People need to know exactly who you help and how you help them ✅ Your headline isn’t a job title—it’s your first impression ✅ Your story matters way more than a list of credentials Most therapists never get taught this. That’s why I recorded a free podcast episode to break it all down. If you’ve ever felt awkward about LinkedIn (like I did), this episode was made for you. ❤️ 🎧 Check it out here: https://lnkd.in/eaZzEzpM

For years, I hated the sound of my own voice. It played out earlier this week when I called our rental car company to confirm a few details. The person on the other end of the line said, “Thank you, ma’am,” ...then hung up. I chuckled at first. But it stirred something deeper. Because for a long time, I let that same fear stop me from starting a podcast. I don’t have a typical “podcasting voice.” It’s not bassy or booming. It’s not commanding in the traditional sense. It’s gentle. Soft. Sometimes unsure. And for months, I thought: “Why would anyone listen to this?” “Who am I to host a podcast when my literal voice doesn’t sound like a ‘leader’?” That fear almost won. But I’ve learned something in these 10 years behind the mic: 𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀. 𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘁𝗵 𝗶𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀. Listeners don’t need you to sound perfect. They need you to sound real. And in a world filled with noise, a quiet voice telling the truth is more powerful than ever. 🎙️ So if you’ve been waiting for your voice to sound “right” before you share your message— Please know: 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲—𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀—𝗶𝘀 𝗲𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵. 𝗜𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗥𝗶𝘀𝗸 𝗼𝗳 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗽𝘀 (𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗡𝗼 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗸𝘀 𝗔𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁) A new startup emails you. “We’ll handle your billing.” “We’ll streamline your scheduling.” “We’ll get you more clients.” Sounds like a dream, right? Less admin work. More time with clients. More space to breathe. But here’s the problem: 𝟵𝟬% 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗽𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗹. And when they do, they take your client data, your payments, and your entire workflow down with them. Right now, 𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗱𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗿𝘀 are flooding into the mental health space. Investors see opportunity, but many don’t understand the ethical and clinical responsibilities therapists face. So therapists—many of whom value privacy, stability, and long-term security—are unknowingly signing up for platforms that might not even exist in a year. The last thing you want is to be locked into a system that disappears overnight. That’s exactly what I covered in a recent podcast episode with Michael Fulwiler. 💡 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗽 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗺 (𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁) 💡 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗶𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺 💡 𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗸𝗲𝘆 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗠𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗮𝘀𝗸 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗽 Therapists deserve tools that last—not just the latest VC-backed experiment. 📌 𝗟𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗲𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲:

𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀, 𝗜 𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗦𝗘𝗢. It felt too technical. Too time-consuming. And honestly? I thought: “𝗜’𝗺 𝗮 𝗽𝗼𝗱𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿, 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿.” But here’s what I’ve learned the hard way: 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴—𝘄𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝗱𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗲𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲𝘀, YouTube, 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝘀, 𝗼𝗿 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝗼𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝘀—𝗦𝗘𝗢 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸. Last year, I finally checked how people were finding Selling The Couch. The data (see second screenshot) stopped me cold: 𝗢𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝘄𝘀𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗿𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝟮𝘅 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗚𝗼𝗼𝗴𝗹𝗲. Which meant...if you weren’t already on my list, you probably weren’t finding me. That’s a 𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗺. So I made a quiet promise to myself in 2024: 𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝗦𝗘𝗢 𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗲𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝘀. Here’s what I changed: ✅ Took a basic SEO course (Ahrefs has a great free one) and followed folks like Meg Clarke. ✅ Stopped treating SEO like a “blog thing.” Started seeing it as a 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 (podcast, courses, blogs, etc.). ✅ Turned original content that we created on the audio podcast and YouTube to SEO optimized blog posts using AI. We embed the YouTube video and an audio player in each blog post to give choice to consumption. We also built (and link to) content clusters like our Ultimate Guide To Podcasting For Therapists (https://lnkd.in/eaZk5ZQq) that tie my podcast to my paid offers. Already in 2025 (see first screenshot), Google’s sending more traffic our way. Still a work in progress, but it’s moving in the right direction. Here’s why this matters—especially for therapists building podcasts and courses: SEO is changing fast because of AI. A few shifts to watch: 1️⃣ 𝗦𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵 𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹. People now ask: “What’s the best podcast mic for a quiet therapy office under $100?” The more precise our content answers, the better we rank. Also, you've probably noticed that Chat GPT is now pulling in actual website content. 2️⃣ 𝗧𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀. Google wants us to own entire conversations. That means not just 1 blog on “starting a podcast”—but a whole web covering gear, guest outreach, monetization, and mindset. 3️⃣ 𝗛𝗲𝗹𝗽𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘀 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁. AI can pump out content, but human content that actually helps people? That’s what wins. Here’s the truth: Every episode, every course I create exists to help therapists build income + impact beyond the therapy room. But if they can’t find my work, I can’t help them. That’s why SEO isn’t “extra.” It’s part of our service. If you’ve been putting off SEO because it felt too much, I hope this encourages you to start small. 🙂

LinkedIn feels different than when I started writing here 2.5 years ago... There are more creators than ever. More content. More noise. But with all of that... I’ve been thinking a lot about 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘁. Because lately, I’ve found myself scrolling past posts that feel… off. • Advice that sounds like it came from ChatGPT. • Case studies with no real stakes. • Hooks that catch your attention but leave no lasting imprint. And here’s the tough part: I 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 some of the folks writing these posts. I 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 their work. I 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 they care. But when their content feels thin, I start to question their depth—even when I’ve seen it firsthand. It’s made me take a long, honest look at my own writing too. Am I choosing clarity over clicks? Am I writing for trust—or just for traction? As a psychologist, and as an Indian entrepreneur who was raised to value 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄, these questions hit differently. There’s a pressure here—especially for creators of color—to “keep up” or become more polished, more clickable. But I’ve learned that true trust isn’t built in a single viral post. It’s built: 1️⃣ 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗲’𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗱—not just what we’ve learned from someone else’s blueprint. 2️⃣ 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗰𝘂𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗰𝘆 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲. 3️⃣ 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝘂𝘀—not gimmicks. Because simplicity doesn’t mean shallow. It means: “I’ve done the deep work. Let me make it easier for you.” That’s the kind of content I want to create. Not content that tries to game the algorithm—but content that 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗻, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗱, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗮𝘆𝗯𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲. 🔁 I’d rather grow slowly and be trusted than go viral and be forgotten. 𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡: What kinds of posts help you trust someone’s voice on here? Let’s make this place a little more human. 👇❤️

One of my hopes is to share the raw and real on LinkedIn—not just the highlights. So here’s the real: Our most recent mastermind launch didn’t go as planned. What’s strange is that 𝘄𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗮𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗽𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿. But those clicks didn’t turn into sales. I had some wonderful conversations with colleagues who were seriously interested but didn’t purchase. I also gathered some survey data to better understand what’s happening. Here’s what I’m learning: 👉 A lot of therapists are feeling scared, unsure, and hesitant to invest right now—especially with the political climate and everything it could mean for their businesses and lives. 👉 It’s not that they don’t value education or support. It’s that many feel like they’re bracing for what’s next. 👉 Our offerings—while valuable—are higher ticket, which has worked well in the past. But these aren’t normal times. We need to rethink how we show up and how we serve. I was talking with my therapist this week about these past five years: ✅ Pandemic ✅ Hyperinflation ✅ Recession fears ✅ Political uncertainty that touches every part of life and business It’s a lot. But here’s where I’m landing: 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆. They make you ask the hard (but important) questions: ❓What do I really want this business to be? ❓Who do I feel called to serve right now? ❓What offers actually meet people where they are today—not where they were 3 years ago? Hard times have a way of stripping away the unnecessary and leaving only what matters most. That’s where we’re headed next. I’m not sure exactly how it’ll look, but I’m certain of this: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝘆, 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗹𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱. If you’ve also felt like you’re re-evaluating everything right now—know you’re not alone. Would love to hear—𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱-𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻? Let’s talk about it b/c it's good to normalize and ups and downs of business vs just the highlights👇

In the first year of my podcast, I thought consistency meant never missing a week. No breaks. No silence. I kept grinding... until I almost burned out. Somewhere along the way, I lost the why behind the show. So I asked myself: “What if I built the podcast around the life I want— not the other way around?” I started making changes. 🎙️ 2 months of episodes, 1 month of replays ☀️ Summers off to be present with our daughter 🍂 November + December for rest and reflection It felt like a risk. But recently, I learned the podcast is in the 𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝟬.𝟱% 𝗴𝗹𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆. Not because I posted every week. But because I created a rhythm that let trust (and joy) compound. 💡 If you’re podcasting—or thinking about it—remember: 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗼 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲. 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝗿𝗵𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴. P.S. This is just one of the habits that’s helped me keep podcasting for the long haul. I recently recorded an episode with 6 others I’ve built into my weekly rhythm: 🎧 You can listen to it here: https://lnkd.in/eGgygwDw

The Fastest Way to Burn Out? Trying to Build Everything at Once. A course. A membership. A book. A retreat. It’s tempting to want it all—now. But trying to build everything at once? That’s the quickest path to overwhelm, second-guessing, and exhaustion. 😔 I know because I’ve felt it. Early on, my brain told me I needed to do everything fast— Before the moment passed. Before I got left behind. Before someone else built it first. But here’s what I’ve learned: Long-term success isn’t about speed—it’s about staying in the game. I started with one course. Then, as I felt ready, I added more offers. Nearly a decade later, my business finally feels aligned, sustainable, and simple. And yet, I’m still tweaking. Still optimizing. Still learning that so much of entrepreneurship is about giving things time to compound. And if you stress your systems too much, there ends up being compromises in health, relationships, or your business growth. If you’re feeling the pressure to build everything at once—pause. Simplify. Focus. Play the long game. QUESTION: What’s one way you can take the pressure off yourself today? 👇?

𝗜 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗣𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝗠𝘆 𝗕𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀—𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗲’𝘀 𝗪𝗵𝘆. A few years ago, I started taking 𝗪𝗮𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵𝘀—intentional pauses throughout the year to slow down, recharge, and focus deeply on one big project. No constant content creation. No chasing the next thing. 𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁, 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸. This month, I’m: ✅ Revamping my free podcasting webinar ✅ Hiking more ✅ Incorporating cryotherapy into my recovery And I’m making a big shift... I’m renaming the webinar from “𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝗨𝘀𝗲 𝗣𝗼𝗱𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗚𝗿𝗼𝘄 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗕𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀” to: ➡️ “𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗖𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗧𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗟𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿: 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝗣𝗼𝗱𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗕𝗲 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗡𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗕𝗶𝗴 𝗦𝘁𝗲𝗽” Because here’s what I’ve realized: Many therapists who want to 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽 𝗯𝗲𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗽𝘆 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 don’t just need another business strategy… They need a platform. A way to 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗺𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗲. A way to 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻-𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿𝘀 (like conference founders or book publishers). A way to become 𝗮 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗲. Podcasting does exactly that. I’m grateful for this Walden Month—to step back, rethink, and build something even better. If you had a month to slow down and focus on just one big thing, what would it be? 👇

𝟭𝟬 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗴𝗼 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆, 𝗜 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝗺𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗽𝗼𝗱𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗔𝗽𝗽𝗹𝗲. Years later, my wife gave me this framed photo — the sound wave of that very first episode — with the words: “𝗕𝗶𝗴 𝗗𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗜𝗺𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗦𝘁𝗲𝗽𝘀.” I remember sitting at my desk, mouse hovering over the “Submit” button, my heart racing. I didn’t have a podcasting voice. I worried what loved ones would think. I had no clue if anyone would even listen. But I hit submit anyway. Fast forward to today, and Selling The Couch just crossed 𝟭.𝟴𝟮 𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱𝘀 and landed in the 𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝟬.𝟱% 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗼𝗱𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗴𝗹𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆. The wildest part? I recently saw data that said most podcasts don’t make it past 7 episodes. STC has published over 𝟯𝟴𝟬. But here’s the truth they don’t always tell you about “success” stories: 👉 I almost didn’t launch b/c I didn't like my voice. 👉 I re-recorded my first episode 7 times. 👉 I recorded or edited many of the first 50 episodes at 3:50 AM and then took a 7:30 AM train to center city Philly to see patients/clients I think a lot about the Mel from 10 years ago-- Freshly licensed. 3 years into life as a psychologist. Naive enough to chase a wild idea. Scared enough to almost talk himself out of it. But hopeful enough to believe something beautiful could come from pressing record. 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘄—𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂—𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻. Your voice matters. Your work matters. And the people you’re meant to serve are waiting. Just start. Imperfectly, awkwardly, and bravely. I promise—the future you will thank you.

𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗔𝗺𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗕𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻 𝗜𝗱𝗼𝗹 Months before retiring, 𝗠𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗣𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽𝘀 said something that stuck with me: “𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘄𝗲 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 𝘄𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲. 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗼 𝘄𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘄?” That feeling? I know it well. When I hit big milestones over the past decade—𝟭.𝟴𝗠+ 𝗽𝗼𝗱𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱𝘀, 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹 𝗴𝗼𝗮𝗹𝘀 𝗜 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱—I expected to feel complete. Instead, I felt... unsettled. “𝗢𝗸𝗮𝘆… 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁?” As an immigrant founder, ambition isn’t just about success. It’s in our DNA. I grew up watching my dad work cleaning bed linens and study for the law school bar exam—at the same time. My mom worked relentless night shifts as a nurse so we could have a shot at something better. I absorbed their work ethic like oxygen. 𝗦𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻—𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱. So I hustled. I achieved. I hit goal after goal. I turned a good thing (work) into an ultimate thing where my identity got twisted and wrapped up in it. Because in immigrant families, work isn’t just about money—𝗶𝘁’𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵 𝗶𝘁. I wanted to prove that my parents made the right call to come to the US from India. But it left me 15 pounds heavier, battling insomnia, and with bouts of anxiety and depression. A few years ago, I started asking myself a question. What if ambition wasn’t just about work? ✅ 𝗔𝗺𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 (𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗲, 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗸𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝘂𝗻𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝘆𝗿𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝟯.𝟱-𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘀). ✅ 𝗔𝗺𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽𝘀 (𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 “𝘄𝗶𝗻”). ✅ 𝗔𝗺𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 (𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀—𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲-𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗲𝗮 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀, 𝗮 𝗸𝗶𝗱’𝘀 𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿—𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘁). I still want to build something great. But I don’t want to climb so fast that I forget why I started. The question I’m sitting with now: 👉 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗼 𝗜 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗺𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁? Because the goal isn’t just to succeed. It’s to build a life that actually matters.

I had severe acne growing up. The kind that made me avoid mirrors and group photos. The kind that made strangers offer “helpful tips” in public. And the kind that makes your Indian relatives recommend all sorts of things, from Vicco Turmeric to ayurvedic treatment. It got so bad, I ended up on Accutane. If you’ve been on it, you know—it’s no joke. My skin cracked. My lips peeled. Every month, I got bloodwork to check for side effects. It worked—but the scars stayed. Years later, when I started building my podcast and online course, those scars came back in a whole new way. Every time I turned on the camera, I wasn’t thinking about my message. I was thinking: 📹 “Will the lighting make my skin look worse?” 📹 “Will people take me seriously if I don’t ‘look the part’?” 📹 “Should I just stick to writing and avoid video altogether?” Here’s what I’ve learned after helping hundreds of therapists launch podcasts and courses: 𝗠𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁. They struggle with 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗻. We tell ourselves: ❌ “I don’t look like the experts I see online.” ❌ “I’m not polished enough.” ❌ “Who am I to teach anyone?” But here’s the truth no one tells you: 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗮𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. They care about connection. They care about seeing someone who looks like them—a real human with flaws, insecurities, and courage to show up anyway. The thing you’re most insecure about? It’s often the very thing that makes you relatable and trustworthy. For me, it’s my scars. For you, it might be your voice, your age, your credentials, or something else. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆? 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳? This is still a work in progress for me. But every time I show up—scars and all—I remember this: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝘀𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝗲𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗿𝘆. This is something I'm still navigating so would love to hear your thoughts 👇