Recently, I found myself seated across from a retired JSOC operator in a modest, sun-drenched café in Pinehurst, North Carolina. The place had a certain charm—old wooden chairs, natural light pouring in, and an atmosphere that invited reflection. It was there, amidst the scent of roasted beans and the hush of mid-morning conversations, that a profound exchange took place—one that inspired the quote etched in writing of this article.
He had reached out after reading one of my articles. We hadn’t spoken in 6-7 years. “Every time I thought to call,” he admitted, “something distracted me.” But something in my recent work created urgency in him—a deep stirring he could no longer ignore.
With clear eyes and a quiet voice, he said, “Your article made me want to take a deeper look at myself… at who I am. I realized something: my identity is contaminated.”
Even though he had served this nation with distinction, having been a national asset in operations that will never be public, he was carrying a heavy sense of loss—not for his achievements, but for his self-worth.
The Language of Identity
I asked him why he used the word contaminated. He paused. “I don’t know. It just felt like the right word for the mess inside.”
I nodded, then offered gently, “I would have said rustic.”
“Rustic?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the difference?”
And I said:
“Contaminated implies damage that defines you, like something toxic that renders you less than whole-ruined. But rustic… rustic speaks of weathered strength. It tells a story of experience, imperfection, and beauty shaped by time, not ruined by it.”
To me, I said …. “You are not ruined—your rust is a proof you’ve endured.”
He leaned back, a subtle shift settling into his posture. His breath steadied. Though his gaze remained fixed, I could sense a storm quietly turning within—then, gently, a few tears welled up and fell, unspoken truths finding their way out. With humility and a touch of apology in his voice, he whispered, “Oh darn…”
Identity Through the Lens of MAGNUS OVEA
In the MAGNUS OVEA Theory of Human Performance and Wellbeing, identity is not static; it is elastic—shaped by context, challenge, and capacity. This elasticity can be either rigid or expansive, depending on how we interpret our worth.
Contaminated identity arises when one’s value is filtered through:
- A sense of missing — the actions, the brotherhood, the urgency of fight-or-flight, and the clarity of purpose that once defined daily life.
- Fear — of not being enough or losing relevance.
- Judgment — often internalized from institutions, peers, or even imagined standards.
- Comparison — the corrosive side-by-side of one’s internal journey against someone else’s curated exterior.
In contrast, a Rustic Identity holds space for:
- Authenticity — It is unapologetically real, grounded in truth rather than performance.
- Resilience — It has weathered adversity and stands not despite it, but because of it.
- Character — It bears the marks of someone who has lived, served, fallen, risen, and continued forward with integrity.
- Presence — It values being over doing, embracing the here and now without the need for external validation.
The Hidden Harm of Contaminated Self-Worth
When someone who has carried out elite missions for a country says, “I’ve lost my self-worth,” we must pause and recognize the deeper systemic and spiritual fractures in how we regard service, purpose, and personal identity.
- Contaminated worth convinces us that we are no longer valuable because our context has changed (e.g., post-military life, trauma recovery, aging).
- It ties identity to performance, not presence.
- It hijacks intrinsic value, replacing it with external validation metrics.
Coaching Him …
I did not hesitate when he asked if I would coach him, even though he was already working with a Veteran Counselor. What he sought was not clinical; it was ontological. He wasn’t asking how to “heal.” He was asking how to re-know himself.
To coach him, is to inspire him to want to learn, put the work to reforge his Rustic identity to a MAGNUS ONE.
You see, Rustic Identity is not broken — it is refined. It reflects the kind of leadership not born in boardrooms or textbooks, but in adversity, isolation, endurance, repetition, and above all sacrifice. The Rustic Leader has been through the fires of life and returns not shiny, but seasoned. They do not wear their experiences as trophies, but as truth.
While others chase perfection, MAGNUS ONE leaders pursue meaning. They aren’t trying to “be the best” in comparison to others—they are trying to be whole in relationship with themselves, their mission, and those they lead.
In a world obsessed with projection, productivity, and persona, the Rustic Leader chooses presence. They’ve unlearned the noise of judgment, fear, and comparison. Instead, they lead through quiet power—rooted, empathetic, and unshakably real.
Their leadership is not loud—but it echoes.
Conclusion: The Journey to “Be a MAGNUS ONE”
The café we met in was “rustic.” So was the man sitting across from me—weathered, layered, imperfect… and profoundly whole.
Just like that space, his soul had character. His story deserved reverence, not repair.
I share this story with you not only to honor his courage, but to invite you, the reader, to reflect on your own self-worth. Is it contaminated by fear, judgment, or comparison? Or is it simply waiting—like aged wood beneath old varnish—to be uncovered?
In my 40+ years of academic research and practical experience across leadership development, coaching, and consulting, I have encountered this pattern again and again—across industries, professions, and generations. From military veterans and first responders to executives, educators, and entrepreneurs, many high-performing individuals come to a point where their identity feels misaligned, buried, or even broken.
But I have learned this: what feels broken is often just buried. What feels contaminated is often just mislabeled. And what you may call weakness may, in fact, be the very evidence of your strength.
This story is not unique to one man—it is shared by many. Perhaps by you.
So if you find yourself in a similar place—weathered by life, shaped by duty, and unsure of your current reflection—know that your true worth isn’t lost. It’s simply obscured by projections that were never yours to carry.
Strip them away.
See yourself again.
Be a MAGNUS ONE.