What I Learned from Drawing a Penis on My Friend’s Forehead

Hey friend,

I’m an addict.

Not to a substance.
Not to gambling.
Not to porn.
Not even to my phone (well… maybe a little).

I’m addicted to Not Enough.

Let me give you some examples:
The money in my bank account? Not enough.
My house? Not big enough.
That workshop I taught in Dallas three weeks ago? Not good enough.
Last week, only three people showed up to my Fear to Love fellowship group—not enough people.
The bagels at the buffet table? Not New York enough.
The women I date? Not pretty enough.
My body? Not fit enough.

You get it?

I literally have these "Not Enough" thoughts thousands of times a day.
And if you’re being honest, you probably do too.
Same addiction—just better disguised.
It shows up as drive, ambition, or “just being realistic.”

Even once you start noticing it, Not Enough still sneaks in—just wearing new clothes.
It shape-shifts into self-improvement, spiritual growth, or that noble-sounding “I just want to live a big life.”

You hear yourself say:

“I want to make a bigger impact.”
“I want a house in Malibu.”
“I want a massive exit from my company.”

But underneath it all?
The same whisper:

What I have isn’t enough. Who I am isn’t enough.

This isn’t about ambition.
This is about fear.

Because Not Enough is just a costume that fear wears.
Scarcity. Lack. Unworthiness.
All synonyms for fear.


So what happens when fear is running the show?

Let me put it simply:

Your life is a projection of your thoughts.

Just like a movie projector doesn’t create the film—it simply plays what’s already on the reel—your reality reflects the thoughts you’ve been feeding it.

So what happens when your mental reel says:

Not enough. Not enough. Not enough…

You guessed it.
That’s what gets projected outward.

Let me give you a visual.
At summer camp, we used to pull pranks on our bunkmates while they were asleep.
(Yes, I was that kid.)

My go-to move? Drawing a penis on someone’s forehead with a Sharpie.

Now imagine this:
You wake up one morning with that masterpiece on your forehead.
You stumble to the mirror, see it staring back at you in horror—and then you grab a wet rag and start frantically scrubbing… the mirror.

Insane, right?

But that’s how most of us live.

We go through life trying to “clean the mirror”—changing partners, chasing money, fixing jobs, buying crystals—when the real problem is what’s drawn on our own forehead: our thoughts.

The mirror isn’t the issue. It’s just reflecting what’s already there.

No amount of scrubbing the reflection will help if we don’t deal with the original doodle—our belief in Not Enough.
Scrub your thoughts, not the mirror.


Meet Firemaniac

(a.k.a. the voice of fear in my head)

I gave the voice of fear in my head a name: Firemaniac.
He’s loud. He’s manipulative. He lies. He attacks. He destroys.

He thrives on chaos—and his favorite pastime is whispering that life should be different.
That bagels should be better.
That I should be better.
That nothing is ever enough.

When I catch myself thinking something ridiculous like “these bagels aren’t New York enough,”
I now picture Firemaniac behind the scenes—spinning his web of discontent,
sounding suspiciously like a certain political leader with a flair for dissatisfaction.

Giving my fear a name and a face has helped me see it for what it is:
Not me.
Just a voice I created and accidentally started believing.

By the way, I’m teaching a free workshop next week where we’ll dive deeper into how to spot, name, and disarm your version of Firemaniac—and for the first time, I’ll be showing you how to use AI (yes, ChatGPT) as a personalized fear coach to help you practice everything in this article, daily.
If any of this hits home, it might be worth checking out.


A Few Truths About the Voice of Fear:

  • It always speaks first and loudest.
    (Love doesn’t yell—it waits patiently.)
  • Its goal is your smallness.
    (It wants control, not peace.)
  • It thrives on distraction.
    (It keeps you endlessly scanning, fixing, comparing.)
  • It invented time.
    (It keeps you obsessed with the past and future—so you never feel safe now.)
  • It lives in duality.
    (Every “better/worse,” “more/less,” “special/common” thought—that’s fear talking.)

You might hear fear say:

“I need others to approve of me.”
“I’m not spiritual enough yet.”
“If I rest, I’ll fall behind.”
“I must control how others see me.”
“Suffering proves I’m worthy.”

Or maybe:

“I call fear my protector… but it’s been holding me hostage.”

So here’s the exit ramp off the Not Enough highway:

Fear? It’s fake news.
Made up. Always has been.
A glitch in the mind. A human-made illusion.

It’s not your bank account that’s scary—
It’s the voice in your head narrating what it means.

That voice is fear.
And fear is just a bad narrator.

So what actually exists?

Only love.

Love is what’s real.
Love is what’s always been real.
Everything else is distortion, noise, or a story we bought into.

Love. That’s it. That’s the whole damn show.
Love is the reality.
Fear is the scam artist with a megaphone convincing you otherwise.

JFK wasn’t being metaphorical when he said,

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

He meant:

The voice is the problem—
Not the thing it’s talking about.

Here’s What I’ll Be Teaching at the Workshop

(And What I Practice Daily)

Step 1: Catch the Lie

Fear always speaks first, loudest—and it always lies.
Your job is to catch it in the act.

Let’s say the thought shows up:

“My house isn’t nice enough—my date is going to judge me.”

Pause.
That’s not truth. That’s not love.
That’s Firemaniac whispering his favorite script: Not Enough.

And if you don’t name it as fear, you’ll mistake it for something noble—like ambition, humility, or “just being realistic.”

But make no mistake:
Unless you call it what it is, you’re letting it run your mind like a hostile takeover.

So name the thought.
Call it fear.
And cut off its power supply.

Step 2: Forgive the Voice

This one’s hard—because our instinct is to fight fear.
To outsmart it, silence it, crush it.
But the moment you make fear your enemy, you’ve already joined its army.

Fighting fear is still fear—just in a different costume.

So instead, I do something radical:
I forgive it.

I say,

“Firemaniac, I see you. You’re lying again. But I forgive you. You’re scared. And scaring me is just what you do.”

And then I forgive myself:

“I forgive myself for listening to you. For believing you. For thinking you were me.”

This is how I stop making fear the villain.
Not by battling it…
But by seeing through it—
And choosing love instead.


Step 3: Let Gratitude Arise Naturally

This isn’t about forcing “positive vibes” or writing a list of things you should be grateful for.
That’s just fear dressed in spiritual drag—trying to fix the mirror again.

If you’re still listening to Firemaniac while writing a gratitude list,
you’re just adding glitter to the lie.

Real gratitude doesn’t need to be forced.
It arises on its own—quietly, gently—once you stop feeding the voice of Not Enough.

Gratitude is what bubbles up when you come home to love.
When you stop believing the lie,
You start seeing what’s already here.

That you’re safe.
That you’re loved.
That you have enough.
That you are enough.


What This Process Is Really About

At the root of it, every moment in life is a fork in the road.
You’re either:

Extending love
Or crying out for it.

That’s the real work of this practice—not just clearing fear, but returning to what’s real.

Even thoughts like:

“I want more money,”
“I need more success,”
“I wish things were different”
are often just veiled cries for love, safety, or belonging.

So these three steps aren’t just mindset hacks.
They’re a spiritual practice.
A quiet revolution.
A way to recognize when fear is speaking—and gently guide yourself back to love.


A New Kind of Gratitude List

(My gift to you)

If you’ve made it this far, thank you.
We’ve covered a lot—fear, forgiveness, illusion, truth, love.

But before I go, I want to leave you with something you can use right away.

Not a “tip.”
Not a self-help trick.

A new kind of gratitude list.

The traditional kind? It’s everywhere.

Write down 10 things you’re grateful for...

It’s well-meaning. But let’s be honest:
If fear is still driving, that list becomes a cover-up.
A spiritual band-aid on an infected wound.

So here’s what I do instead—and what I offer to you now:


The New Gratitude Practice

🧠 1. Choose 3 fearful thoughts.
The ones that show up as soon as you wake up.

(“I’m behind.” “They don’t like me.” “I’m not doing enough.”)

🔥 2. Walk each one through the 3 steps:

  • Catch the lie
  • Forgive the voice
  • Let love and gratitude arise

❤️ 3. Choose 3 ways to extend love today.
Small, honest acts.

  • A kind word to someone who doesn't expect it
  • A silent forgiveness you never thought you could give
  • A smile at yourself in the mirror

That’s it.
That’s your new gratitude list.

Not a bypass.
Not a performance.
A daily ritual of truth-telling and love-giving.

It doesn’t need to be perfect.
It just needs to be real.

And if this resonated, I’ll be going deeper into all of this next week in a free live workshop.
No pressure. No upsell. Just a room full of humans practicing a different way to live.

But regardless of whether you show up, this practice is yours now.

Use it well.
Use it with love.

—Tony

The Ethical Conman (Who Gave Up the Game)

Real-world insights for moving from fear to love in business, relationships, and self-worth. Wisdom from a recovering persuasion expert learning to live, lead, and negotiate with truth.