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.

In 10th grade, I said I had a girlfriend named Karen.

She didn’t exist.

Let me take you back.

Valentine’s Day. Sophomore year. Carrollton, TX. 1990.

It’s 3rd period. Red carnations are getting handed out.

Construction paper hearts taped to lockers and the distinct smell of sweat and cheap cologne.

I’m at my locker when a guy from English class leans in and says,
“So… who’d you send a carnation to?”

He’s watching.

Two girls turn around to hear the answer.

Just say a name. Make it normal. If you don’t, they’ll all know ...

I blurted out Karen.

He said Karen who?

My heart racing, my mind scrambling for a response ...

She doesn’t go here, she’s from Marcus.

I might as well have said she’s from Canada.

I don’t know if he believed me or even cared ... but I did.

I spent hours and hours replaying it in my head, stewing, surviving.

Who is Karen, what’s her background, how’d we meet?

All the defenses I needed to prove she was real.

For me, Valentine’s Day wasn’t about love ...

It was about not getting caught.

That code ran quietly for years.

Even in my mid 30s, sitting at a nice dinner, successful on paper, someone would casually ask,

“So… do you have a Valentine? I know a lot of nice girls.”

And I’d smile and say

Nah, and not looking. Work is my mistress and there’s no room for anything else.

I wasn’t ready to say the real answer out loud.

Fast forward to last week, leading up to Saturday, someone DM’d me:

“Who’s your Valentine this year?”

I waited for the old surge.

Nothing.

I typed back, “Don’t have one.”

And that was it.

Because my old reaction wasn’t about Valentine’s.

It was about inventing answers to feel safe.

And I don’t invent answers anymore ... or girlfriends for that matter.

51. Gay. Still Single.

Curious, what question still makes you feel like you have to explain yourself?

We got this.

And if you don’t, I got you.

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.

My life has been a wreck.

Both figuratively and literally.

If you only looked at the last five years, you’d assume I should be broken.

A trusted friend stealing from me, a real estate deal imploding, a major breakup, caregiving for my mother for 18 months and then losing her, and three su***des in the last year.

And yes, I felt what you’d feel too, shock, grief, rage, fear, exhaustion, all of it.

The difference is I didn’t let those moments decide who I became.

The calm you see now isn’t luck, privilege, or avoidance.

It’s the result of decades of learning how to clear old mental programs and respond as the adult I am today.

That’s why I don’t stay stuck, and why I help others shorten years of burnout and self-doubt into months or weeks.

If you’re ready to stop repeating the same patterns, get on my calendar and let’s change how you process life.

We got this.

And if you don’t, I got you.

Love you guys!

I've had 3 friends pass from su***de in the last year ...

One of them had reconnected with me at a memorial hike for another friend's su***de.

We literally talked about how tragic it was that anyone would feel this was an option.

And 6 months later, it's all over the news and my FB feed.

When I heard the news, I knew I needed to say something.
I just didn’t know what yet.

He was handsome, successful, fit … all the things we think bring happiness.

But he wasn't happy.

I looked at our last text exchange ... it was from a few months prior.

I had since moved to Dallas, had my hands full with life things, but wanted to check in.

He said, "I've been so depressed. I haven't left the house in a week, until now..."

And I never responded.

Not intentionally. It got lost like texts do.

15 years ago, I would of been gutted.

Felt like I should have done something ... could have done something and it wouldn't of happened.

And here’s the hard truth I had to sit with.

This is ego disguised as compassion.

The guilt and shame that follows something like this feels noble.

But underneath, it's about Control.

The belief that if I had said the right thing, noticed sooner, responded faster, the outcome would have been different.

That belief turns someone else’s pain into my responsibility.

And their final decision into something about me.

But it wasn’t.

His decision was not a reaction to a missed text.

Not a moment, a sentence, or a silence.

It was the result of a private internal battle I did not create, could not fully see, and could not control.

Accepting that isn’t cold.

It’s what allows me to grieve without drowning in shame.

To feel sadness without self-punishment.

To honor the loss without turning it into a life sentence of “if only.”

No blame. No shame. No guilt.

Just the freedom to mourn the loss of another beautiful human gone too soon.

So instead of fixating on how he left, I choose to remember who he was.

Since then, I've reached out to a few mutuals I thought might be on the same path.

Because that is the only thing actually in my control.

So, if any of you are carrying something like this or know someone who is ...

Let this be your permission, set down the guilt and shame ... the ego.

So you can grieve without owning what was never yours to carry.

We got this.

And if you don’t, I got you.

It’s 2026 y’all - and you’re about to fail your resolutions!

It’s not what you think.

It’s not because you’re lazy, unmotivated, or incapable of change.

It’s not because your life is too busy or your job is too demanding.

Not even because you are picking the wrong goals …

In fact, it’s actually not your fault.

It’s your biology.

Here’s what most people don’t understand.

Your brain is not wired for success, growth, or fulfillment.

It’s wired for survival.

And your version of survival vs your brain’s is quite a bit different.

For you it may mean getting that promotion, starting that company, or being a great parent.

Your brain cares about one thing … keeping you alive.

So it loves the predictable status quo – even if that leaves you feeling stressed, burned out, and stuck in a rut.

You see, your brain knows how to survive where you’ve already been.

It has no idea how to keep you safe where you’re trying to go.

Crazy, right?

So now you know … what ya gonna do?

I’ll tell you what won’t move the needle ...

Reading yet another self help book or listening to another podcast.

They’re great, but information without application is just noise.

Intentional application of information is what creates transformation.

But how?

If you want to compete in a sport, you hire help and find a community, right?

Just so happens I know a guy (hint - it’s me).

Get on my calendar and I’ll tell ya all about it.

Or stay stuck, repeating the past, and we can have this same conversation in Jan of 2027.

Up to you.

We got this – and if you don’t, I got you. But you have to ask for help!

Love you all!

A few pics from my time in Cinque Terre in 2023.

Rome was historic, Venice was fascinating, Florence was inspiring, but …

These 5 little villages tucked into a hillside were my favorite.

A great reminder that there is no right way to do life, but there is a wrong way.

To stay stuck in a life you do not like because you’re too scared to pursue a life that you absolutely love!

Just as big and beautiful the world is … so I’m an be our lives - if we let it be!

You got this!

And if you don’t, I got you! 🫶

Love you guys!