This trend is everywhere right now. Kids asking, “Dad, what were you like in the nineties?”
Here’s my answer.
I was a twenty-something kid at UCSD studying political science, carrying extra weight, and trying to figure out what I was even doing on this planet. I didn’t know the nineties were about to hand me everything — my career, my purpose, and one of the most important lessons I’d ever learn.
My mom Gloria was alive. She was luminous — a dancer, a teacher of elegance, the person who cheered loudest for every wild idea I had. My dad believed in me too. When I told them I wanted to become a wellness trainer after attending a Tony Robbins seminar, they didn’t flinch. They helped me create CD audio kits — not tapes, CDs, because that mattered then — and my career was born.
I started an entertainment magazine in college called College Scene with my sister and my roommate Andrew. I organized Learning Annex seminars at the Hyatt in San Diego, standing up in front of rooms of strangers holding a five-pound model of fat, teaching people that the belly was a mind problem before it was a body problem.
And then I had the idea to use video — before YouTube, before Instagram, before anyone knew what a content creator was. I launched Fit Now, interviewed Richard Simmons, became friends with Bob Green (Oprah’s trainer), and eventually landed in Chicago at Harpo Studios.
Harpo. You know what that spells backwards.
My mom had passed away on February 5th, 1998 — just months before that taping. I was grieving and grateful at the same time. And when the show was over and I was standing feet from Oprah, I did something that scared me.
I asked.
I told her about my mom. About the dream she had for me. And I asked if we could take a photo together — something I could hold onto to remember what was possible.
Oprah stood up in front of her entire studio audience, told them I was the only guest who had ever asked for that photo, and called her photographer over herself.
That photo is the one I keep. Not because of who’s in it — but because of what it taught me.
The greatest lesson of my nineties wasn’t from a seminar. It wasn’t from a bestseller. It was this: ask for what you want. Because if you don’t ask, the answer is always no.
Tony Robbins taught me to change my identity. But Oprah taught me to use my voice.
Now I’m 55. Still asking. Still showing up. Working on my 40th book, The Zero Hunger Plan, and inviting you to join me this Monday at 5 PM Pacific Time for a live coaching session where new members get an advance draft of the book. I’ve got an 80% off code, a hardship discount for anyone who needs it, and 25 years of research on how to transform your health from the belly out.
The nineties were the decade I learned to ask.
This Monday is yours.
Click above for my free “Cure Midlife Belly Fat” report, or Start Now to work with me live Monday nights at 5 PM PT.
First 100 members: code founder = 80% off.
Need hardship help? code hardship = 96% off.
