Shoutout to Mr. Greene

Close to a decade ago, I worked as a personal trainer at Anytime Fitness in Sumter, SC. I started my employment there working the front desk—facilitating gym tours, wiping off sweat and other bodily fluids from treadmills, and making sure the vending machine was fully stocked. I desperately wanted to be a fitness trainer and patiently waited until a position opened up. Finally, my goal was achieved.

However, I quickly realized my stay at Anytime Fitness would be short. My way of thinking was completely different than the owners’.

Selling personal training packages can be difficult. It’s pricey—and at the time, a luxury for those who could afford it. Most people, including myself, didn’t have the funds. I was aware of that, so I often offered six 30-minute sessions for $75 once someone signed up for a membership. My goal was to use those six sessions to equip my new clients with as much information as possible—to continue their fitness journey with proper form, fresh ideas, and motivation.

It felt like a victory when those six sessions were complete and once-awkward, shy novice exercisers left empowered, with a little pep in their step.

The owners didn’t share the same sentiment. I was called into the office one day. They were upset with my sales. I wasn’t signing clients onto extended packages like they wanted. The six-session deals weren’t enough for them—they wanted me to secure six-month (and beyond) contracts.

I remember naively saying, “After doing the six sessions, my clients feel confident in their abilities. I teach them everything I know so they can truly thrive. A lot of people don’t have the money to afford personal training, but they still deserve to know how to use their body.”

I was met with: “Yeah, that’s the whole point. You’re teaching them too much. You need to make them need you. You can’t give them everything.”

I turned in my two-week notice and opened my own training business called Believe In Fate at the very hopeful age of 22.

This wasn’t the only time I’ve left a job because our values didn’t match—but it was the only time I put in a two-week notice. Since then, it always ends a little more… dramatic.

For whatever reason, many of my employers have been under the impression I was their pet.

Shut up and do what I say.

Comfort me on my terms.

Show all my friends your tricks—and you better do it with enthusiasm.

And of course, I may not treat you the best, but you’re mine, and no one else can have you.

Sounds like a narcissistic relationship, huh? Yeah. It’s not always lovers that play out that dynamic. The desire for control and power is an addiction. Have you seen how people tweak out over it? They just can’t get enough. And the more they have, the more they want. They’ll give up everything for that drug—and will happily be “for the streets” to get their fix.

I must mention—it’s not self-control and inner power they’re after. That buzz doesn’t hit the same. They want the stolen kind. The kind that’s not theirs. They get off on that. It’s corny, if you ask me.

The word narcissist has only been in my vocabulary for a couple of years.

However, that repulsive ass energy?

I’ve known it my whole life.

I just didn’t know what the fuck it was, or what it was called, or how to define it.

I’ve met many in my life. So many, I’ve often thought:

“Am I the narcissist? Am I the problem?”

And the answer usually is:

You aren’t.

But if you keep hanging around these motherfuckers, you will pick up their habits and subconsciously begin to act like one.

And I have, at times—usually once provoked.

Usually while reacting to the action of the actual narc.

Regardless, it’s shameful behavior.

And I don’t even like shaming things, because the impact is astronomical.

But I will say it with my chest in this case:

Narcissists are disgustingly shame-filled and ruin everything and everyone around them.

Now—do I think those owners of that fitness gym were narcissists?

Ah… maybe. Who knows?

But I’d lay money on the fact that they read The 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene and took it literally.

I’m currently reading it, and I see it as satire. In my opinion, Mr. Greene is cleverly exposing these power-hungry drug addicts—and capitalizing off book profits.

I see you, drug lord.

I ain’t mad at it.

Because this book has given me language for what I’ve experienced most of my life.

I recommend you read it—but to heal and to protect yourself.

Not to become a false prophet.

There’s too many of those. Just go doom scroll for about 11 minutes—you’ll see 65 of them.

I leave you with this quote from Robert Greene himself:

“You can die from someone else’s misery—emotional states are as infectious as diseases. You may feel you are helping the drowning man, but you are only precipitating your own disaster.”

Please don’t let greedy, miserable, and stolen-power junkies play with your mind or your time.

You might end up becoming one.

“Respectfully,”

MR.

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