If I have heard Oprah say it once, I have heard it a thousand times: “What happens to you, happens for you.” Working a decade for her, I saw examples of this numerous times, but it wasn’t until I began to confront the real sacrifices I had made to achieve my goals that those words took on a different and deeply personal meaning.
Throughout my travels, speaking, and coaching, questions often turn to my career choices and how I achieved my goals. I wish I had a better answer for them than just putting my head down and doing the work, but that was the fundamental truth behind my success. You're often told or taught, “Just ask for what you want, and you shall receive.” I 100% believe in that, but I also believe that you have to do the work, in other words - make choices and sacrifices. A great mentor of mine, John Dealy, whom I met at XM Satellite Radio, once said, “You can ask all you want, but what are you willing to do to get it?”
“Did you go to your high school prom?” “How were your graduation parties?” “What did you like best about college and joining a fraternity?” are questions I ask groups when addressing the topic of my success, and rooms full of people will raise their hands in affirmation. Posing those questions isn’t meant to make them feel bad or guilty or to inflate my ego; they are legitimate questions. After the hands shoot up and down, I point out that I never did any of those things. I chose a different path and sacrificed those moments for my career, chasing my goals.
By the time I was 16, my work life had taken off. I had moved from Chuck the Duck to Cody the Coyote and doubled my salary. The mascots were how it all started, paying real money—$10 per hour—and for a 16-year-old needing gas money in Oklahoma, it was winning the lottery. Heading into my senior year at Northwest Classen High School in Oklahoma City, my days of donning the foam head of Cody the Coyote were freshly in the rearview mirror. I worked as an on-air DJ for KEBC in Oklahoma City on Saturday and Sunday nights. I made the commercials, set up the studio weekly with new music, and even sold advertising. It was 1988, and my grades were very pedestrian. I loved sports, and I was an average athlete, much like my grades. Baseball was the sport I was the best at, again, another low bar of comparison. The school days were long, and my only focus was that 2:20 p.m. bell when we were set FREE!
My first promotional photo. MoBetta Shirt, Hat, and 13MWZ’s
The oozing passion for my job overtook me, and the radio station suits took note. Never saying no, only saying yes to any job, no matter how random. That fall, the station fired the Monday-Friday 7 pm to midnight DJ, and there was no replacement. Without hesitation, I took the job. My schedule during my senior year of high school became bonkers. I got up at 7 am, went to school from 7:50-2:20, dressed for baseball practice or games until 6 pm, and was on the air from 7 pm to midnight, trying to keep my grades up between Merle Haggard and Reba McEntire records. Weekends were full of other radio station duties, and then on the air again from 7 pm to midnight on Saturday and Sunday. I was working non-stop, seven days a week. But it didn’t feel like work.
I wouldn’t leave the station until well past 1 am every night. Completely exhausted driving home, with the smell of my red dirt-stained baseball uniform reminding me that I needed to find the time to do laundry. Driving my Chevy truck home, I remember telling my left eye to rest while my right eye stayed open to drive. The theory was that I was getting some form of half-sleep. My teenage brain thought this was an excellent multi-tasking hack. I quickly figured this was a bad idea after running off the road, hitting traffic cones, and countless curb checks.
Thanksgiving, New Year's, Christmas, you name it, I was there, on the air, pulling down 6-8-hour shifts. When it was prom season or other school dances, I had zero time to think about even attending - I had a shift to do. Darrel Palmer was my baseball coach and a fan of mine as I was on the air. I gave him the ‘hotline’ number so he could call anytime to request a song, no doubt impressing whomever he was with. Yes, kids, this is WAY before MP3 and Spotify. If you wanted to hear a song, you had two options: play a record or call and request it from the DJ. And I was the DJ, oh my, the power of the airwaves. I am now more than certain that my power to play the coach’s song requests was how I lettered in baseball. Clearly, it was not my curveball.
Baseball Coach Darrel Palmer to my left, and the “King” Coach Barry Switzer at my induction to the OKC Hall of Fame.
There was never a conscious thought of what I was not doing or missing; it was always about being there and taking advantage of whatever opportunity came my way. Making sacrifices and doing whatever it took to get the next job became ingrained into me in my teenage years.
This ingrained drive continued for three decades. Blinders are on, head down, onto the next bigger job, one with more visibility, more notoriety, and always more. The more choices there were, the more sacrifices there were. I got married twice, twice divorced, and had two beautiful daughters. While I was working to provide a life for them well beyond anything I had ever had, I tried to justify my pathology of this “all in” at any cost by doing things for my family. I told myself, “I’m sacrificing this for my family.” Which is true, but also not the most honest. Accuracy and truth are not the same thing - things can be accurate and not truthful.
Recently, I encountered a stranger after a speech I gave to a group of entrepreneurs. It was a formal, black-tie event, and I was the keynote speaker. Never being one to miss a great conversation, I always stay after, meeting people who want to say hi and talk a bit more. It's also a great chance to pick up a few more clients! In my keynote that night, I was more vulnerable about my personal life than ever. I was honest about my stroke, recovery, my failed marriages, and the ongoing painful estrangement from my teenage daughters. A woman approached after waiting in line to ask a question. The wisdom of age and the aura of her presence clued me in quickly; she was different. After a few seconds of small talk, she asked:
“Was it all worth it?” Nothing more, Nothing less.
Tears began to well up, and I froze, mumbled something, and then embarrassingly said, “I don’t know, probably not.” I keep coming back to that moment wondering if my mother or father was speaking to me through her; of course, who knows, but regardless, I needed to hear that exact question at that exact time in my life. She quickly smiled and said, “I could tell.” Just as fast as she appeared, she was gone.
That exchange shook and recalibrated me and changed my view on this issue—the idea of chasing dreams without heavily weighing the context of sacrifices. I have always been comforted by putting in the work or knowing what it will take to achieve my goals. I always focused on the objective ahead and knew what work would be required. Still, part of my philosophy was to consider the sacrifices as secondary—only to be figured out later.
So, was it worth it? Honestly, at the time, I didn’t know; it was a very confusing situation.
The turmoil in my personal life for the past three years and currently is ample evidence to answer “No,” yet that doesn’t feel right either. My career and choices have brought joy, comfort, valuable mentors, and wisdom, as well as a bountiful life to my family, so what’s the answer? Still confused, as I reflect - I just don’t know.
My ego had a considerable role in my calculus of sacrifices. How could it not? As a young kid on a journey out of Oklahoma with no college diploma, achieving success was addicting. The career bucket was filling up and I thought that was the end game - fill that bucket. I see now that nobody’s bucket can ever be filled. We all have holes in our buckets, and they leak - always a bigger job, a bigger house, bigger, bigger, the more I put in, the more it leaked. The bucket seemed to feel like it would never get filled, but the younger Erik saw that and used it as fuel. That was a key part of the drive. MUST FILL THE BUCKET.
A metaphor I wished I had known earlier in my career
The neglect of my TRUE self has been a reckoning. Digging deep, sharing my lessons, and working with my therapists have all brought me a sense of wholeness that I haven’t felt in over three decades. While still a bit of a mess and with miles to go, I’m a work in progress - aren’t we all, let’s be honest? The time and space I have carved out in the past year have given me some clarity on my life, namely my professional life and the neglect of my true self, as I confront these two Eriks: Erik Logan and my authentic self, Erik Toppenberg.
That is where the next chapter begins. But, was it worth it? Back to the question that was asked.
Sacrifices today have a different meaning for me. The weight of my failures, family, friends, and daughters, who I don’t hear from, weigh on me constantly. Nobody can change the past. If given a chance to jump into a time machine or ride a DeLorean with Doc Brown (showing my age here with a Back to the Future reference) with the temptation so great to fix things, I wouldn’t. Ten years ago, I might have thought I would choose to change the past, but sitting here today, I wouldn't consider it. My clarity today is due to my past choices and life experiences, not something achieved in a vacuum. Now, I spend more time away from my phone, caring less about what people say about me on social media and more time trying to reconnect with friends, some of whom may not even take my call. All you can ever do is make the change today, in the next minute. On this day, I’m walking a different path.
So, what is the point, you may be asking? I continue to need this journey, which includes the path of my life and life choices—it’s healing for me and, hopefully, a lesson for you about seeing and recognizing the REAL sacrifices when you ask for what you want or chase your goals. My old thesis of “Head down, always forward, figure out the details later” plays well with young executives who want to hear that the sacrifices are all worth it. But, the truth is that they’re not counting the missed opportunities in their own relationships, and neither was I. That was me 20+ years ago. That’s why I wanted to share.
Life loves to test you. A headhunter recently reached out with an opportunity to interview for a CEO job. A big company, a name we all have heard, would pay well, great benefits, but it would require a move. It’s a place with no surfing, bodies of water that would freeze in winter, and far away from my bubble in Manhattan Beach. Most of all, it would take me away from the tribe and community that I have fostered, filled with people who love and support me. My tribe knows me thoroughly and knows all my challenges and shortcomings; leaving this place and people would not be worth the sacrifice - not anywhere close. It is radical for me to admit this and put it in writing. Ten, fifteen, twenty years ago, I would pack my bags, run toward this job, say YES, and throw caution to the wind - leaving a wake of emotional and untold mess behind.
The woman in Kansas City asked if it was worth it. In the moment the question was asked, I knew the answer - no. If fate has our paths crossed again, I can’t wait to amend that answer to yes.
Fully comprehending Oprah’s lesson of “What happens to you, happens for you” now brings a lightness and balance to me I have never felt. A fuller view of my choices, my life acceptance of where I am, and the work I need to do, both personally and professionally. This lesson highlighted the road(s) ahead—both of them, the road for the two Eriks, excited and grateful for the growth, learning, and fun ahead.
Taking jobs and ascending in your career can be a never-ending journey of fulfilling your dreams. When you get the next big job, guess what? There is a bigger one around the corner. The satisfaction is fleeting, only temporary until you set your sights on your next goal with the compounding effect of the sacrifices mounting. My thesis for life has always been to do what you must to reach your goal and keep asking yourself what you are willing to do to get there. That’s the topic and stories that young executives want to hear, much like I did in my 20s and 30s. The flurry of questions I get after sharing the examples of sacrifices sparks motivation and energy in the people with whom I share the stories. That was me 20+ years ago; today, I see and have weighed the consequences of a life fueled by a drive placing the highest importance on the next big job. My more enlightened perspective has put my sacrifices into sharp focus and has helped me reevaluate the parameters of my choices and shift the importance of filling that bucket with the next new title.
I wouldn’t change the past—there is no chance. I’m confident that I wouldn't have received the lesson I was meant to learn. Seeing things through a broader and clearer lens—I can say now, clearly, yes, it was all worth it.
