Editor’s note: In Lesson 3, Mark shifts the focus from opportunity… to identity.

It’s one thing to believe wealth is possible. It’s another to ask whether you’re showing up as the person capable of creating it.

If you’re serious about turning over a new leaf—not just financially, but personally—this is an important one.

Go here to watch Lesson 3 now.

How to Turn Over a New Leaf and Become the Person You Were Meant to Be

By Mark Morgan Ford

We begin our work today with the most important challenge of your wealth-building goal: I am going to ask you to turn over a new leaf.

Why? Because until now—for whatever reason—you have failed to become wealthy, or at least as wealthy as you want to be. And that is why you joined the Wealth Builders Club—to see if we couldn’t help you achieve your financial goals.

Yesterday, I outlined all the work we’ll be doing together in the coming year. Some of that work will require you to develop special skills. Some will require you to develop new habits. Some of it will require you to learn new things. But most importantly, it will challenge you to think about wealth, and your relationship to wealth, in new ways.

All this takes not only a commitment to work but also a willingness to change.

Let me begin by telling you about my own struggle with change…

“You show up late for class, seldom complete your assignments, and spend much of your class time daydreaming. Yet you produce C+ and B- work. Were you a child with modest potential, I would be happy with such grades. But you, Mr. Ford, are an underachiever.”

I was in tenth grade when Mrs. Growe, my homeroom teacher, called me out in front of my class. I was not surprised or insulted by the assessment. It was accurate. I knew it.

There were reasons. I was dyslexic. I had ADD, and there were those adolescent hormones. But I always knew I could overcome them if I put my mind to it. Mrs. Growe had my number. I was a slacker.

I was a slacker and an underachiever, but I wasn’t without academic ambitions. I fantasized about being accepted into a prestigious university despite my mediocre grades. Every six months or so I promised myself I would “turn over a new leaf” and spent the next several weeks working hard and making progress.

But that never lasted. I did manage to score well on the SATs, but my overall academic CV was such that my guidance counselor recommended a local community college or the U.S. Army.

The community college was happy to take my $400 per year and would have been equally happy to give me the Cs I had been earning in high school. But something changed that summer. I wasn’t willing to be the underachiever any longer.

Going to a C school, I realized, was a benefit in disguise. I was going to be in an academic environment where mediocrity held sway—where I would be competing with mediocre students.

That thought was motivating. Equally motivating was the realization that this was a genuine second chance. My past was past. If I could do well during my first year, I could apply to a better college to get my degree.

And then there was a third thing: the thought that none of my new teachers or fellow students would know me. I would be coming into this new environment as an unknown person, not the perennial class clown I had been in high school. I could come into class on time, take a seat in the front of the class, and pay attention.

In short, it was an opportunity to “impersonate” a good student.

And that’s exactly what I did.

From Slacker to Diligent Student

I spent a good bit of time that summer on the college campus, learning everything I could about it—the curriculum, the teachers, the facilities, the extracurricular activities, etc. My idea was to get ahead of the competition by knowing all the rules and requirements, all the good classes, all the best teachers, and lots of shortcuts.

I showed up for classes in September on time, prepared with the required texts. I sat in the front row and raised my hand whenever the teacher asked questions. I did my homework assignments and spent my spare time studying. Between attending classes, studying, and running a house-painting business on the side, I worked 16 hours per day, 

By the end of the first semester, I was known as an A student. And not just any A student, but one of the best. It was a very good feeling. I became addicted to it. I went on to a better college and a top-10 graduate school and managed, even with tougher competition, to stay at the top of my class.

I often think about how I managed to turn over that leaf. After trying and failing so many times, what was it about that last time that worked?

When I first wrote this essay, my theory was that I had bottomed out emotionally—that I was finally so disgusted with myself that it made a difference. But in thinking about it since then, I can’t say that’s true. I had been disgusted with myself many times before. No, it was something else.

I think the real difference was this: As a high school student I had created a persona—the smart slacker/class clown who would never take himself seriously. My fellow students seemed to like it when I played that role, and their approval mattered. This was, of course, a self-destructive character. So long as I believed I was it, I was doomed.

When I realized I’d be entering college as an unknown person, I also realized that the role I had been playing in high school was a role I didn’t have to play in college. I could put on a new face and costume and act a different part.

Envision Your Best Self

And this is the idea I want you to consider today.

Is it possible the person you are being right now is not the person you were meant to be?

Is it possible that there is a better version of yourself—a more thoughtful, more articulate, more skillful, and more accomplished role you could play?

Only you can answer those questions, but I have a hunch that you wouldn’t be reading this right now if it weren’t true.

When we have spent years struggling but failing in some aspect of our lives, it is normal to believe that we are “simply not good” at this or that.

But the past is the past. It has no effect on your future. Past failures can hold you back only as long as you see yourself as a failure. Past behavior is addictive only as long as you see yourself as an addict.

Your current and future behavior is not linked to its past. It is linked to your mind—the one thing in life you have 100% control over.

Use your mind. Think about whether you are the person you always wanted to be. Ask yourself, “If I were starring in a movie about my life, what role would I best like to play?”

Begin with a vision of what you want to be. Then figure out how that person should be. How should he talk? How should he walk? How should he interact with other people?

When presented with a challenge, how should he respond? At what time does he rise every day? How does he spend his day?

You get the picture.

Do what I did that summer before I started college. Figure out the kind of role you want to play. And then start playing that role. Nobody can stop you!

Go here to watch Lesson 3 now. 

All the best,

Mark

P.S. Most people want change.

Very few are willing to change themselves.

You say you want financial independence in seven years. That is possible. But it will not happen if you continue thinking and behaving as you have.

Something must shift.

Lesson 3 explores this idea.

Watch it carefully. And ask yourself, honestly, whether you are ready to play a different role.