
Success is often pictured as a final destination—a trophy earned through hard work, grit, and drive. But in truth, it’s more like a threshold. Crossing it brings not only rewards but also new responsibilities. The further we rise, the heavier the load we bear. How we manage that burden determines whether our achievements spark enduring satisfaction or silent exhaustion and burnout.
"Heavy is the head that wears the crown."
William Shakespeare
Today we'll explore:
Success can bring with it titles, recognition, financial gain, or influence. But each of these carries a less visible companion called expectation.
These responsibilities aren’t inherently bad — in fact, they can be deeply meaningful. But they do require awareness and active management. Otherwise, they become silent weights that erode your joy and clarity over time.
Here are some of the most common costs that come with success — and why they matter:
Success often comes with decision fatigue. You’re making more calls, carrying more pressure, and thinking five steps ahead — constantly.
With higher expectations can come increased fear of failure, imposter syndrome, or a sense of isolation. “You should be happy,” people say, but internally you feel stretched thin.
The more people depend on you, the less discretionary time you have. This can lead to disconnection from hobbies, family, and your inner life.
You begin to become your role. You forget who you were before the success. And sometimes, you lose your voice trying to maintain the image others expect.
So how do we carry the weight of success without collapsing beneath it?
A single victory is thrilling but fleeting. True mastery lies in sustaining success while staying true to yourself. On this journey of life I’ve learned to focus on systems and routines that fuel lasting energy, not just quick wins that burn me out.
Early in my Bunn Brands journey, I landed a major SEO client by pulling all-nighters, tweaking their WordPress site, and obsessing over every keyword. The site hit Google’s first page, and I felt unstoppable. But the cost was steep—missed dinners with my wife, less energy for my son's bedtime stories, and a week of exhaustion. Today, I've built a system and routine involving automated tools to streamline my work and scheduled work times to avoid burnout. These changes deliver consistent results without sacrificing my soul, letting me show up fully as a dad, husband, and entrepreneur.
Whether leading your family, running a business, or engaging with your community, embrace your authentic self. Admitting “I’m still figuring this out” builds trust far more than projecting perfection. I’ve found that vulnerability strengthens connection and inspires others to grow alongside me. I consider growth a part of everyday life and, in fact, I grow a little every time I post a new blog to ThinkOutsideTheBunn.com.
As a father and husband, I thought I had to be the unflappable leader for my wife and our sons, William (Coy) and Charles (Lee). When we were potty training Coy, we celebrated his progress, but after Lee was born, Coy started regressing, having accidents and not wanting to work on his potty training. I felt my temper flare and I nearly lost it when he had an accident for what felt like the millionth time. Instead of hiding my struggle, I told my wife, “It's hard to stay patient with Coy's potty training, and I need help figuring this out so I don't lose my cool.” We developed a calm routine, like reading a favorite book during potty time and setting potty alarms to help Coy feel secure and remind him to try. I also told my son, “Dad gets upset sometimes, but I’m learning to control that, and we’ll figure this out. I could use your help. If you see Dada getting mad put a hand over mine and tell me it's ok.” Being open about my temper and our challenges showed Coy it’s okay to struggle, ask for help, and grow.
As success grows, so does the demand on your time. But you don’t owe it to everyone. Prioritize non-negotiable blocks for rest, family, and personal reflection to stay grounded and fulfilled. I’ve learned that protecting these moments is key to sustaining my energy as a father, husband, and entrepreneur.
We’ve discussed my struggles with maintaining a healthy work-life balance. Tools like automation and scheduling have been game-changers for protecting my time, but I still occasionally slip—taking late client calls or tweaking Bunn Brands projects when I’d rather be unwinding. Given the demands of my digital marketing role, after-hours work is sometimes unavoidable. However, I’ve found that deliberately scheduling and time-blocking personal and family moments works best to keep these boundaries firm despite my flexible work schedule. This approach helps me stay present for my wife and our sons while managing my business.
Isolation is a one-way ticket to burnout. Success can make you feel like you’ve got to stand alone, projecting strength for everyone else. But I’ve learned that real strength comes from cultivating a tight circle of friends and peers where I can be Travis—flawed, human, and still figuring it out—not some polished version on a pedestal. I lean on people who keep me grounded, who remind me of my heart, not just my hustle.
Becoming a father shifted my entire world, bringing with it an unexpected weight of expectation. Suddenly, I wasn't just me anymore; I was a role model, a protector, a guide for these little lives. I felt an immense pressure to embody every virtue, to always have the right answer, to be the unwavering beacon of strength. This internal struggle to define my place as a father and model the kind of man I wanted my sons to become often left me feeling isolated, silently battling my own uncertainties. I spent a lot of time poring over parenting books and self-help guides, trying to find the perfect formula, but it felt like both my wife and I were going at this blind.
It was during this period, with my first son, that I rediscovered an interest in Freemasonry, something my grandfather had been part of. I initially saw it as a historical curiosity, but as I learned more, I realized it was a community built on principles of self-improvement, brotherhood, and moral guidance—exactly what I was searching for since leaving the military. Joining the lodge wasn't about finding a magic answer, but about finding a "circle" where I could be a man among men, all striving for something greater. In the quiet discussions, the shared service, and the mentorship from older members, I found a space where I could admit my own uncertainties about fatherhood without judgment. It wasn't about being a polished expert, but about the shared journey of becoming better men. This brotherhood has become an invaluable sounding board, a place where I can ask raw questions about balancing responsibility and raising good kids, knowing I’ll get honest, grounded perspectives. It keeps me connected to a larger purpose and reminds me that my path as a father and role model is a continuous process of learning, supported by a strong, understanding community.
Success has a way of pulling you off course, making you chase shiny distractions instead of what lit your fire in the first place. I’ve learned to pause and ask myself: “Why did I start this?” “What am I really trying to build for my family and myself?” Those questions cut through the noise, re-anchoring me when work or life feels overwhelming. This habit keeps me focused on what matters—being a present dad, a supportive husband, and an entrepreneur who makes a difference.
A while back, I got caught up chasing big clients for Bunn Brands, thinking more revenue would mean more security for myself and my family. But I was so buried in late-night projects that I missed crucial moments with my family. One night, exhausted, I sat down and revisited my “why”: I started Bunn Brands to have the freedom to be there for my family, not to trade time with them for a bigger paycheck. That clarity hit hard. I cut back on overcommitted projects, set stricter work hours, and even picked up a full-time day job to cover benefits for the family while I continue to grow my business on the side. Writing on thinkoutsidethebunn.com helps me reflect on this too—every post reminds me I’m sharing my journey to inspire others, not just to rack up views. Checking in with my “why” keeps me steady, no matter how loud the world gets. It's the entire reason this website exists.
Success isn’t just about racking up wins. It’s about embracing the weight that comes with them. The crown of achievement, whether it’s growing Bunn Brands, raising my sons, or sharing my journey on thinkoutsidethebunn.com, is never light. Its heft comes from responsibilities like being a steady provider for my wife, a present dad, and an entrepreneur who holds fast to his values. That weight becomes meaningful when I carry it with intention, humility, and grit, choosing to prioritize what truly matters over fleeting gains.
Carrying the crown doesn’t mean getting it perfect. It means showing up honestly and staying human beneath the shine. Every time I choose family dinner over a late client call or share a raw lesson on my blog, I’m reminded that the crown is worth wearing when it reflects who I am and the life I’m building for those I love. What’s the crown you’re carrying, and how do you keep it meaningful?