my story

We don't get to choose our cards in life. We learn to play the hand we're dealt and still find a way to win, because with God, all things are possible.

I'm from Rocky Mount, North Carolina, about sixty miles east of Raleigh and three hours from Atlantic Beach.

In 1986, I graduated from Rocky Mount Senior High. I played football, worked on the newspaper staff, and stayed busy in other activities. But for the most part, I was an average, everyday student still figuring things out.

Off to College

After high school, I had no clear idea what I wanted to do. I figured college might help me figure it out—and maybe I could keep playing football. So I headed six hours away to Lees-McRae College in the mountains of North Carolina.

I was homesick that first semester, but football and classwork kept me busy. By Christmas break I realized I missed school more than home, and that feeling never returned.

After a while, I grew tired of the cold and snow and decided to transfer to East Carolina University. I loved the big-campus energy—28,000 students—and those years were some of the best of my life.

I still didn’t know what I wanted to do. I declared a Business major because I wanted to make a good living and avoid the financial stress I’d seen growing up.

A Rude Awakening

As a Business major, I quickly discovered I was behind the times. Several professors required assignments in the computer lab, and I’d never used a computer before. I was intimidated. Eventually I switched my major to Psychology, still searching for direction.

I went through the motions, hoping for answers from advisors and pastors, but left every meeting still uncertain. One thing I knew for sure: I didn’t want to live with the same financial stress my parents did.

My dad ran Carolina Cleaning & Remodeling out of our garage. He used an old Ford pickup to haul tools to job sites, while my mom kept the books and helped with cleaning, painting, and wallpapering. My brother and I worked there too, keeping food on the table and the lights on.

Sports were my world. When I wasn’t playing football, I was on a basketball court somewhere—often the only white guy on the court—just wanting to compete and belong.

(That's me on the left.)

Introduced to “The Business”

After transferring to East Carolina, I joined a local health club and got to know the owner. One day, I saw him cleaning mirrors with an Amway spray bottle. It clicked—my parents had been involved with Amway years earlier, and I remembered their optimism. I decided to give it a try.

My experience with Amway was both one of the best and worst things to happen to me. I grew tremendously—stepping out of my comfort zone, learning sales, public speaking, and persistence—but I also lost time, money, and eventually my enthusiasm. I never graduated from college, and I left the business disillusioned but wiser.

Born with a Hearing Loss

As a toddler, my mother noticed I didn’t respond well when she talked to me. After years of testing, specialists discovered I had a significant hearing loss. By second grade, I wore a behind-the-ear hearing aid.

As a preschooler, I had a slight speech impediment—when I said words with “R,” they sounded like “W.” Kids teased me: “Hey Paul, you waskerley wabbit!” I became painfully aware that I was different. I grew shy and socially awkward, often hiding behind longer hair to cover my hearing aid. Still, I tried to fit in through sports and a small circle of friends.

Hyperhidrosis

Adding to my challenges, I had a condition called hyperhidrosis—excessive sweating on my hands, feet, and underarms. It dominated my life. I changed shirts and socks constantly, avoided handshakes, and dreaded summer. I prayed nightly for healing.

In 1999, after marrying and moving to Conway, Arkansas, I researched my condition online and learned it was genetic, not psychological. Relief washed over me—I finally had an answer. I saw a specialist, had surgery, and months later felt like a new person. My hands still sweat a little, but I no longer live in constant embarrassment. I’m extremely thankful.

What Was I Thinking?

Looking back, I have to laugh. I was shy, introverted, hard-of-hearing, and struggled with excessive sweating—and I chose a business that required shaking hands, talking to strangers, and public speaking. What was I thinking?

In 1999, Amway launched a sister company called Quixtar. It was basically Amway rebranded for the internet. Eventually, I learned the truth: most top earners made money not from selling products, but from selling motivational tools and events. That realization ended my journey in “The Business.” I walked away in the fall of 1999, disappointed but wiser.

Now What?

Life has had its challenges. Without a degree, I worked all kinds of jobs to support my family. I even ran a successful lawn-care business for a while—but in the end, it wasn’t where I was meant to be. Live and learn.

Through it all, I discovered one of the biggest mistakes a person can make is to work only for money. The key to happiness and success is finding what you love—and finding a way to make a living doing it. When you love what you do, you’ll never “work” another day in your life. You’ll gladly put in the time and effort to be good at it.

The Cavalry Ain’t Coming – You’ve Got to Do This Yourself

When Chris Gardner was a boy, he watched a Saturday morning Western with his mom. The hero was cornered, out of bullets, waiting for the cavalry to come charging over the hill.

But no one came. His mom looked at him and said, “You see that? The cavalry ain’t coming. You’ve got to do this yourself.”

That truth stuck with him. Years later, when Gardner was broke, homeless, and raising a son, he knew no one was coming to save him. The world doesn’t slow down for your struggles. If you want change, you’ve got to figure it out yourself. No excuses. No one’s coming. You’ve got to do this yourself.

Along the way, I’ve learned some hard truths of my own: nobody owes you anything, life isn’t fair, you can’t change people, and nobody cares about your problems. The only way forward is to keep moving—one day, one choice at a time.

“Success in life comes not from having a good hand, but in playing a poor hand well.”