You Don’t Have to Perform to Be Paid

What singing taught me about entrepreneurship, earning, and finding your true money voice

So I didn’t grow up imagining I’d become a coach.

Or an entrepreneur.

Or someone who would talk about money and voice in the same sentence.

But I did grow up learning how to ride a bike—and learning how to sing.

Both taught me more than I realized at the time.

Both now live quietly under everything I teach.

Learning to ride a bike taught me about trust.

Balance wasn’t just physical—it was energetic. You don’t force balance. You allow it. You center into it. You move forward before you feel fully ready, and somehow that’s when it all clicks. You’re no longer just pedaling—you’re being carried by motion itself.

That’s a lesson in entrepreneurship, too. You can’t always “figure it out first.” You build momentum in motion, not in theory.

But the lessons that stayed with me most came from singing.

Singing was where I first felt the gap between performance and depth.

Singing Lieder at Songfest, 2010

My singing journey wasn’t an easy one.

I wasn’t just regularly reminded I lacked technique. I’d also be told I lacked feeling. That I needed to “open up more,” “let people in,” “be more expressive.”

In other words: Be more vulnerable. Perform more emotion. Make people feel something.

And the quiet subtext beneath that feedback is something I’ve come to recognize everywhere—especially in business:

You’ll be received only if you emote enough. Only if you soften enough. Only if you give people the feeling they want from you.

And for a while, I believed it.

I tried to feel harder, push harder, emote harder. I mostly just ended up singing harder—with nothing but a fluttery vibrato and questionable intonation to show for it.

With some teachers, directors, and fellow singers, it always felt like a damned if you do, damned if you don’t proposition.

And it always felt like a performance. Because it was.

Not because I didn’t care, or didn’t feel deeply—but because I hadn’t yet developed enough confidence in my technique for emotional vulnerability to arise naturally, without being forced or performed.

The problem wasn’t a lack of feeling.
It was a lack of technical security.

I hadn’t yet built the internal foundation—the breath support, the alignment, the self-trust—that could hold that feeling without strain.

Once I had that, everything shifted.
I stopped pushing sound.
I stopped performing emotion.

It only took nearly completing my DMA—with some secret lessons on the side— to finally get there, but I finally learned let my voice do what it was capable of all along—express, without effort.

And that’s exactly what I see happening in entrepreneurship.

Too many people are still being taught to “perform vulnerability” in business.

To “just show up” and be emotionally available.
To “trust the audience” without first trusting themselves.
To share and serve and give—and only then maybe be allowed to receive.

We’ve romanticized visibility.
We’ve spiritualized asking.
We’ve turned self-sacrifice into a strategy.

But no one builds a business—or a voice—that way.

A true voice needs structure.

A business does, too.

The people I work with are often quietly carrying the same tension I once did in my singing.

They’re being told their business isn’t working because they’re not “open” enough—emotionally, energetically, or spiritually.

But the real issue isn’t openness. It’s that they’ve never been taught the actual business and sales skills that make earning sustainable.

They don’t need more emotional vulnerability.

They need clear messaging, confident pricing, a strong offer, and the ability to sell without second-guessing their worth.

They’re trying to sell without support.

Ask without clarity.

Earn without a basic foundation in what it really means to communicate value and invite someone to buy for the right reasons without feeling “salesy.”

This is where I come in, not with another mindset affirmation, but with practical, grounded guidance that helps people connect the dots between their self-worth and their inherent ability to sell, between voice and offer, between heart and income.

Because the truth is, emotional generosity isn’t a business model.

And connection without clarity doesn’t pay your bills.

I call this finding your money voice.

It’s not about being louder.
It’s not about being more charismatic.
It’s not about being more emotionally available.

It’s about having depth, clarity, structure, and self-assurance behind your message, your offers, your pricing, and your sales conversations.

When you have that kind of voice in your business, something clicks.
Just like riding a bike. Just like singing.

You stop pushing.
You stop performing.
You stop waiting for someone to say, “Yes, you’re worthy.”

You already know you are.

That’s when selling changes.
That’s when asking changes.
That’s when earning changes.

Not because you’re doing more—but because you’re doing it from a place of clarity and conviction, not emotional overextension.

I see this again and again with my clients.

Once they find their true money voice, their income grows—not because they suddenly become more strategic or marketable, but because they stop diluting their value in the hope of being palatable.

They stop performing vulnerability to be paid.
They stop emotionally negotiating their worth.
They stop chasing permission.

They start speaking from strength.
They start selling with integrity.
And they finally earn from a place that’s solid—not spiritualized, not self-sacrificing, but self-respecting and skillful.

Just like singing, that voice was never missing.
It just needed the right foundation to rise.

More soon.

- Brian

P.S. If this landed and you want to explore this more deeply—DM me. No pressure, just conversation.