I recently re-read Ego Is the Enemy by Ryan Holiday. Not because I was looking for some life-changing revelation. Honestly, I picked it back up because ego is something I actively try to guard against. Not because I think I’m especially important. Not because I think I’ve mastered humility.

Actually, just the opposite. Because I’ve had enough experiences in life to know that ego is usually the thing quietly standing between us and where we want to go. And if I’m being completely honest with myself, every season of growth in my life has required leaving a little (maybe a lot of) ego behind.

Military. Business. Marriage. Faith. Coaching. All of them. The older I get, the less interested I am in being impressive and the more interested I am in being effective. And ego absolutely doesn’t help effectiveness.

I think people misunderstand ego. Ego isn’t confidence.

Confidence says: “I believe I can figure this out.” Ego says: “I shouldn’t have to.” Confidence says: “I’m capable.” Ego says: “I already know.” Confidence allows growth. Ego protects identity.

That distinction matters. Because some of the most ego-driven people I’ve met weren’t loud at all. They weren’t arrogant.

They were defensive. Unteachable. Unable to admit mistakes. Unable to ask questions. Unable to become beginners again. And it cost them.

One of the strange realities of success is that achievement creates risk. You start collecting things. Experience. Money. Titles. Certifications. Recognition. Status. People begin treating you differently.

Eventually, you start believing your own press.  And then something dangerous happens. You stop listening. You stop asking. You stop putting yourself in situations where you aren’t the expert. You become a curator of reputation instead of a student of improvement. That’s where growth dies. Quickly.

I’ve tried to intentionally fight that. I read books outside my lane. I ask questions I probably should already know the answer to. I seek criticism. I teach, but still stay coachable. Because nobody is ever above learning.

There are a few questions I ask myself to keep my ego in check.

Am I trying to be right, or am I trying to improve? Those are not the same thing. Being right feels good. Improving requires admitting you’re incomplete.

When was the last time I changed my mind? If the answer is “I don’t remember,” there’s a chance your opinions became your identity. Don’t believe me?  Just look at the massive political divide in the country at the moment… People seem incapable of changing their minds.

Am I talking too much? People who know me know I coach and teach constantly. And I can talk. Boy, I can talk. But I’m also a massive introvert and get nervous around new people.  I love to teach, but teaching itself is a trap. You can start believing your own microphone. Sometimes the smartest thing in the room is asking more questions.

Would I still do this if nobody knew? That one hurts. Because the ego loves recognition. Purpose survives without applause. My answer to this one is easy… I love writing, but have a tiny audience… so I guess I am doing it with no one knowing…

Am I resisting feedback because it’s wrong, or because it bruises my identity? Not all criticism is useful. But dismissing criticism automatically is usually ego. I’ve had people tell me things that were insanely mean and 100% correct, and I’ve had people tell me very flattering things that were 100% incorrect…

I think more of us need to realize the cost of ego.  It costs us more than people realize. It costs relationships because we need to win. It costs opportunities because we refuse to start over. It costs leadership because people stop telling us the truth. It costs us business because we stop adapting. It costs faith because eventually we start believing we’re in control.

And maybe most dangerously, it convinces us that previous success guarantees future success. It doesn’t. Every season starts over. Every room resets. Every chapter demands humility again.

I know the goal is to eliminate ego entirely, but I don’t think that’s realistic. My goal is to notice it. To catch myself. To stay teachable. To remember that no matter what I’ve done, there’s still more to learn.

That’s one of the reasons I re-read books. Not because I expect the words to change. But because I hope I have. Stay humble. Stay curious.  Remember, ‘ego is the enemy,’ and the enemy always gets a vote.