Deano Sutter

Ethan said, “You’re up.”

It was just a reunion. A circle of men I hadn’t sat with in thirty years. Catching up. What have you been doing? Where did life take you?

Everyone took a turn.

My heart began to race, nerves kicking in...

Thirty years ago, in a Christian fraternity at Texas A&M, I learned how to earn my seat in rooms like this.

Knowledge was currency. So if you could quote Scripture, defend it, frame it well, you had power. You had oxygen.

What I did not realize was that I was still playing out an old program from my childhood.

I could either be accepted or authentic, but the world would not approve both.

So I chose acceptance.

I became the connector, always welcoming in the pledges, doing my best to make everyone feel like they belonged ... all the while quietly wondering if I did.

Not because of them, they were great ... it was how I was taught to understand faith. To pray for God to fix what I thought was broken.

Now ... I’m fifty-one. Openly gay. And yup, I still love God, though through a different lens. And I love myself.

Logically, I shouldn’t care what they think.

But admiration doesn’t evaporate with time.

So I began to share about my sexuality and chasing validation in my youth ... learning that I had to perform to belong.

And somewhere mid-sentence, I felt it.

I was performing again.

In my head I was saying ... Stop, just be present.

But that train had already left the station.

So while I was speaking about how I once sought their approval and validation ... while I was quietly hoping for it again.

It’s ironic considering I train leaders to interrupt that split second moment, just before the old code takes over. And I missed it.

No one rejected me.

The cost was much quieter.

In a room full of men I respect, men who are gracious and kind, I wasn’t fifty-one.

I was twenty-two again ... trying to earn the oxygen.

And that told me everything I needed to know.

The room didn’t pull me backward.

My wiring did.

That’s the work.

Not pretending we’ve outgrown it.

But catching it sooner next time.

And letting the fifty-one-year-old answer first.

I asked ChatGPT to give me a caricature of what it thinks I look like.

This was the prompt.

Create a caricature of me and my job based on everything you know about me.

It’ll ask for a pic and I gave it 5. Some closer up, some full body.

My conclusion ….

You know how ChatGPT is always so encouraging and makes you feel so accomplished … well that translates to images as well.

😂😂

Try yourself.

Currently sitting in the doctor’s office waiting for my first colonoscopy.

I’m 51.

Apparently about six years late to the party.

The procedure itself isn’t the story.

The prep is.

Thirty-six hours with no solid food.

Just cold brew yesterday morning, water, and then two doses of liquid prescribe you with a straight face … like it’s no big deal.

It’s a big deal.

At some point around 2am, when you’re wide awake and negotiating with your own digestive system, your ego quietly leaves the building.

It does not matter what you do for a living.

It does not matter where you live.

It does not matter how much money you have.

When colonoscopy prep begins, we are all the same.

And honestly, laying there last night, I had a very simple aha.

Health is the great equalizer.

We spend so much time optimizing performance, revenue, growth, travel, experiences.

But if your body taps out, none of that matters.

And the same goes for mental health.

Chronic stress, ignored burnout, “I’m fine” energy… it all shows up somewhere eventually.

The prep is uncomfortable.

Humbling.

Necessary.

Sitting here now, slightly dehydrated and very reflective, I’m just grateful I showed up.

Take care of your body.

Take care of your mind.

Without health, the rest is just decoration.

Fingers crossed for a clean report.

We got this.