You're Already the Black Belt

Stop waiting for permission to become who you already are

It was February of 1998, about six months out from my first black belt test.

Training harder than I ever had.

• Drilling techniques until I was exhausted.
• Running scenarios in my head at night instead of sleeping.
• After each training session, my gi would be so drenched with sweat that the red ink from my belt would bleed on to my gi.

Terrified I wasn't ready and would fail miserably in front of everyone.

​Richard Carpenter pulled me aside after class one night. One of GM Han's senior instructors. Part of the "Fearsome Foursome"—the first black belts, along with Gannon, Friske and Cruz, to train under GM Han from white belt all the way to first dan.

The guy had seen it all. Knew what it took. Had walked the path I was about to walk.

"You need to relax," he said.

I looked at him like he was crazy. Relax? The biggest test of my martial arts career was coming up and he wanted me to relax?

"Enjoy this," he said.

He was trying to get me to see something I was completely missing.

I was so focused on proving I was ready that I couldn't see I was already becoming what I was chasing.

But the lesson that really changed everything didn't come from Richard.

It came from my buddy Alistair.

The Conversation That Rewired Everything

Alistair and I had been training together for years.

Late-night conversations after class. Socializing outside the dojang. The kind of friendship that gets built through shared discomfort and mutual respect.

When I got promoted to brown belt, I became the most junior student in the advanced class. Alistair was a red-stripe—the most senior student in the room.

But here's what made him different from most of the other students.

Before he ever joined hapkido, he'd spent five years training in aikido. Earned his black belt there before switching arts and starting over.

He'd already walked the path to black belt once. Already faced the test. Already dealt with the pressure and the doubt.

A couple of years before my test, he'd earned his hapkido black belt under GM Han.

So when I came to him with my anxiety about the upcoming exam, he wasn't speaking from theory.

He was speaking from experience. Twice over.

One night, we were talking about my upcoming test. I was listing all the things I still needed to work on. All the gaps I was trying to fill. All the reasons I might not be ready.

He stopped me.

"You're looking at this wrong," he said.

I shut up and listened.

"You need to picture yourself already as a black belt," he said. "You've already proven to yourself—and to the test judges—that you've done everything required. The test is just a formality."

I started to protest. He cut me off.

"If by some crazy situation you don't get promoted, the judges need to explain why to your satisfaction. They need to show you the holes in your game that you didn't see. But other than that? You're already a black belt. Even if you're not wearing one yet."

That hit me like a punch to the gut.

Not because it was arrogant. Because it was true.

I'd been waiting for the test to prove I was worthy. Alistair was telling me to prove I was worthy by already acting like I was.

This wasn't coming from someone who'd never been there. This was coming from a guy who'd earned two black belts in two different arts. Who knew exactly what it took. Who'd already faced this demon twice and won.

And he was telling me the secret wasn't in the doing.

It was in the believing.

What Most People Get Wrong About "Fake It 'Til You Make It"

You've heard the phrase.

Most people hate it. They think it's about lying, pretending, putting on a mask and hoping nobody notices you're a fraud.

And yeah, when it's done badly, that's exactly what it is.

The guy who talks big but can't back it up. The person who acts confident but crumbles the moment they're tested. The leader who has the title but not the character.

That's not what Alistair was talking about.

He wasn't telling me to fake being a black belt.

He was telling me to act as if I already was one.

There's a massive difference.

Fake It 'Til You Make It vs. Act As If

Here's the distinction most people miss.

"Fake it 'til you make it" is about the performance.

You put on the costume. You say the right words. You mimic the behavior. But underneath, you don't believe it. You're hoping nobody looks too close.

It's surface-level. It's external. It's about fooling other people.

"Act as if" is about the identity.

You step into the role before you have the title. You embody the standard before you have the rank. You operate from the mindset of who you're becoming, not who you were.

It's internal. It's about conviction. It's about becoming the thing, not pretending to be it.

One is a mask. The other is a metamorphosis.

Alistair wasn't telling me to pretend I was a black belt and hope nobody noticed I wasn't.

He was telling me to operate from the belief that I had already done the work, already met the standard, already earned the right to stand in that space.

The test wasn't about proving it to the judges.

It was about confirming what I already knew.

And he could say that with authority because he'd done it. Twice. In two different arts. Under two different systems.

He knew the difference between performing confidence and embodying it.

The Mindset Shift That Changes Everything

Here's what happens when you shift from "fake it" to "act as if."

You stop waiting for permission.

You stop waiting for the title, the promotion, the external validation before you're willing to step up.

You start operating from the standard you want to meet instead of the one you're currently at.

And people notice.

Not because you're pretending. Because you're different.

I saw this play out on the construction site over and over.

The apprentice who worked like a journeyman got treated as one. The journeyman who led like a foreman got the crew. The foreman who managed like a superintendent got the big projects.

The ones who stayed stuck? They were waiting for the title before they changed their behavior.

• "Once I get promoted to journeyman, then I'll start showing up early."
• "Once I'm a foreman, then I'll start taking initiative."
• "Once I'm a superintendent, then I'll start thinking strategically."

No.

You act like the position you want, and that's how you prove you're ready for it.

How else is the contractor, the employer, the supervisor supposed to know you're capable of the next level?

You show them by already operating at that level.

I would tell my guys on the construction site—whether they were a material handler, an apprentice, journeyman, or foreman—that they needed to operate from the mindset and work ethic of the position above their present situation.

How else could the contractor know they were ready for the promotion?

You're Already the Leader—You Just Haven't Owned It Yet

This is what holds most leaders-in-training back.

They're waiting for some kind of external validation before they're willing to wear the mantle of leadership.

Waiting for the title. The promotion. The authority. The backing of some official person who says, "Yes, you're allowed to lead now."

But leadership doesn't work that way.

Nobody becomes a leader by waiting for permission.

You become a leader by acting like one before anyone tells you that you can.

You see this clearly when you watch people who command a room.

They walk in and immediately take ownership of the space. Not in an aggressive, domineering way. In a grounded, present, "I belong here" way.

When they meet someone new, they don't wait to be introduced. They walk up, extend their hand, introduce themselves like they're already old friends.

When they're given a difficult task, they don't hesitate or complain. They roll up their sleeves, get started, lean into the discomfort.

These are the people others respect. The ones people want to follow. The ones people wish they could be.

And it's not because they have a title.

It's because they already act like they've earned one.

The Standard You Set for Yourself

Here's the framework I've been using since Alistair's conversation back in '97.

It's shaped every promotion, every transition, every new phase of life I've stepped into.

Step 1: Define the standard of the next level

You can't act as if you don't know what "if" looks like.

What does the next level require? What do people at that level do that you're not doing yet?

For me, before my black belt test, it was:

• Showing up early and staying late
• Helping lower belts without being asked
• Running drills with precision, not just effort
• Carrying myself with quiet confidence, not anxiety

For an apprentice electrician who wants to become a journeyman, it's:

• Knowing the code, not just following orders
• Anticipating the next step, not waiting to be told
• Taking ownership of mistakes, not making excuses
• Showing up ready to work, not ready to complain

For someone who wants to lead, it's:

• Making decisions and owning the outcome
• Speaking up when something's wrong, not staying quiet
• Setting the tone, not waiting for someone else to
• Acting with integrity even when nobody's watching

Write it down. Be specific. What does the next level do differently than where you are now?

Step 2: Start operating from that standard today

Not next week. Not after the promotion. Not when you "feel ready."

Today.

You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to get it all right immediately.

But you have to start.

The apprentice who wants to be a journeyman starts reading the code book tonight. Starts asking better questions tomorrow. Starts showing up fifteen minutes early instead of right on time.

The person who wants to lead starts speaking up in the next meeting. Starts making the hard call instead of deferring. Starts setting boundaries instead of saying yes to everything.

The martial artist who wants the next belt starts drilling with the intensity of someone who's already earned it.

You don't wait for the rank to operate from the standard.

You operate from the standard to earn the rank.

Step 3: Test it under pressure

This is the part most people skip.

They act like the next level in safe, comfortable situations. But the moment pressure hits, they revert.

The test is whether you can hold the standard when it's hard.

• Can you still lead when the project's falling apart?
• Can you still operate like a journeyman when the foreman's not watching?
• Can you still show up like a black belt when you're exhausted, sore, and doubting yourself?

That's the pressure test.

And it's the only one that matters.

Because anybody can act confident when things are going well. The people who earn the next level are the ones who hold the line when it's not.

Step 4: Own it before you get it

Here's the final piece.

You have to believe it before anyone else does.

Not in an arrogant, delusional way. In a grounded, "I've done the work and I know what I'm capable of" way.

Alistair told me to walk into my black belt test like I'd already earned it. Like the test was just a formality to confirm what I already knew.

That's not arrogance. That's conviction.

If I didn't pass, the judges needed to explain why. They needed to show me the gaps I hadn't seen. But I wasn't walking in hoping I was good enough.

I was walking in knowing I'd done everything required.

That shift in mindset changed everything.

Not just for the test. For every major moment in my life since.

What It Looked Like on the Mat (and in Life)

My first black belt test was brutal, physically and mentally.

Two hours. Full-contact sparring. Even having to spar multiple opponents. Demonstrating techniques we'd learned over the years.

I walked in tired, nervous, uncertain.

But I also walked in like I'd already earned it.

Not because I was faking confidence. Because I'd spent the last six months operating from that standard and had been training for over 6 years for this moment.

I'd shown up early. Stayed late. Helped lower belts. Drilled until my body gave out. Held myself to the standard of a black belt before I had the rank.

And when the test came, I didn't perform like someone trying to prove they were worthy.

I performed like someone confirming what they already knew.

I passed.

But here's the thing—the pass wasn't the transformation.

The transformation happened in those six months before the test. When I stopped waiting for permission and started acting like I already belonged.

Richard Carpenter was right. I never had another first black belt test.

When I tested for second dan a few years later, it was a big deal. But it didn't have the same punch.

Because I'd already learned the lesson.

You don't wait for the rank to act like you've earned it.

You act like you've earned it, and that's how you get the rank.

Some Objections I Hear (And Why They Don't Hold)

I already know what you're thinking.

"But what if I'm not ready?"

You're more ready than you think.

The gap between where you are and where you need to be is smaller than the gap between doing nothing and taking the first step.

You don't have to be perfect. You just have to start operating from the next standard.

"What if people think I'm arrogant?"

They won't.

People can tell the difference between someone who's pretending and someone who's becoming.

Arrogance is loud, insecure, desperate for validation.

Conviction is quiet, grounded, and doesn't need approval.

Act like you've earned it because you're doing the work, and people will respect it.

"What if I fail?"

Then you learn where the gaps are and you fill them.

Alistair told me that if I didn't pass my black belt test, the judges needed to explain why. They needed to show me what I missed.

Same thing here.

If you step into the next level and it doesn't work, you get feedback. You adjust. You keep going.

But you don't get that feedback by staying where you are.

Your Move

Here's what I want you to do in the next 48 hours.

Pick one area where you're waiting for permission.

Maybe it's a promotion at work. Maybe it's a leadership role. Maybe it's a personal standard you've been putting off.

Write down the standard of the next level. What do people at that level do that you're not doing yet?

Then start doing it.

Not perfectly. Not all at once. But start.

Show up five minutes early. Speak up in the meeting. Make the hard call. Set the boundary. Take the lead.

Act as if you've already earned the right to be there.

Because here's the truth—you probably have.

You're just waiting for someone to tell you it's okay.

Stop waiting.

Own it before you get it.

What's the one standard you're going to start operating from today, even if you don't have the title yet?

Hit reply. One sentence. I want to know what you're stepping into.