When I was younger, I believed life-changing information had to come from authority figures, parents, teachers, or bosses. But as I grew, I noticed I looked to movies, music, books, podcasts to help inform how I could navigate the world differently, and eventually, simply observing people around me became my greatest teacher.
For a long time I thought worthwhile wisdom had to be packaged, intentional, vetted and profound.
But over time, I’ve realized something. Life-changing lessons rarely arrive the way I expect. Sometimes they sneak in from the most unexpected and mundane places.
Around 2010, I was powerlifting, life was basically focused on protein and lifting, at this time surrounded by people who equated masculinity with hardwork, steak and beer. My wife was vegan, and I wasn’t. Honestly, I wasn’t fond of any vegans I had met yet. They all seemed a bit pushy, judgmental, and rigid.
Then one day, I was watching one of my favourite YouTuber’s (Timinator1337) playthrough of Call of Duty: Black Ops II. The topic or content wasn’t about diet at all, but in an almost passing comment just filling the silence in the game, he mentioned what he had learnt about the pus content in milk and that he was not going to drink it anymore. This one comment stuck with me.
I didn’t feel disgust, outrage, or moral pressure. I simply thought, “I don’t like that idea either.” And it made sense to me. I had worked in a vineyard, handling grapes with snails and rodents that had ‘allowed ratios’ in the final product, the concept wasn’t far-fetched to me.
Over the next few weeks, I removed milk from my diet, mainly in the form of South Australia nectar, Farmers Union Iced Coffee, then I stopped eating cheese, then red meat, and eventually removed all animal products. Not because anyone told me to, not because I was trying to “do the right thing”, or impress anyone, but because I was curious, observant, and willing to try it on in my own life. Form my own opinion.
What I learned from this wasn’t really about veganism. It was actually about autonomy.
The idea that no one knows what’s best for me. I can explore things that resonate, try them, and discard what doesn’t serve me, I can trust my own assessment. The lesson landed because there was no agenda, no pressure, no ideology. Just a fact or personal experience, quietly presented, and my willingness to notice it, then my willingness to act on it.
Surprisingly, this choice, in my quest of ‘what it means to be a man’ actually enhanced my sense of masculinity rather than threatened it. In masculine environments where veganism might be considered weak, it gave me opportunities to assert boundaries, honor my personal obligations, and by doing that, lead by example. Simple life moments to demonstrate integrity, self-trust, and the ability to navigate peer pressure. The observation that strength is about internal alignment, the ideals I set for myself. The standards I create that no one else will hold me accountable for. It’s just me, for me, true integrity.
This experience shaped the way I show up for people today. I always pretend I’m meeting someone for the first time, every time. I don’t assume who they are today based on what I think I know about them and when I work with people I don’t push agendas, I offer invitations. I respect autonomy. I meet people where they are in this moment, trusting that real connection and desired transformation comes from experience and understanding, not persuasion.
I walk through life now knowing everyone on this planet has something they could teach me. That life-changing information doesn’t always arrive where you expect it. Sometimes it comes from a random source, a quiet moment, or a passing comment. It lands only if you’re willing to notice, explore, and trust yourself.
No one can tell you who to be. You police yourself. Often, that is all we need to change everything for ourselves.