When I was 23, I was living in my parents’ basement. I had just graduated college with my teaching degree and license in hand, but teaching tennis was what I really wanted to do. At first, it felt like the right path. The hours were picking up and the income was solid.
But the days were unpredictable. Early mornings on court. Long stretches of nothing during the day (unless you could line up private lessons). Back on court from 4 to 7 PM most nights. The weeks were inconsistent.
I was making good money, but I was freeloading at home. Living rent-free in my parents’ house. My mom asked me if I could chip in for the bills, maybe pay a little rent. And I pushed back.
Looking back now, I honestly don’t know why I did that. I don’t know why I felt the need to push back, why I acted like I was above it. But it was the wrong move.
What happened next? I’ll never forget…
My mom came down to the basement and looked me in the eye and said, “You’re a f—king a—hole. You have two weeks to get out of my house.”
I stood there in silence.
How bad must you be for your own mom to say that to you?
It was that moment I had to look in the mirror and humble myself.
It was that moment I realized I had to say less.
It was that moment I realized I needed to grow up and be on my own.
It was that moment I realized I had been the a—hole—and I needed to change.
It was that moment I never wanted to reach again.
It was that moment I felt it differently—because I’m an only child.
How bad must I have been for my own mom to call me an a—hole… and give her only child the boot? A heavy dose of reality. It woke me up.
That moment shaped me. Iit was honest. It forced me to get real about who I was and who I was becoming. It taught me that success without humility is just noise. That growth doesn’t come from being told “you’re great.” It comes from hard moments—the ones that hurt and stay with you. The ones that remind you to be better.
That’s the stuff that shapes us.
Moler's Musings 