I Asked ChatGPT About My Blind Spots. The Answer Rewired Something.

There's a moment in every conversation with AI where you forget you're talking to a machine.

For me, it happened when ChatGPT told me I was "playing small."

Not in a motivational poster kind of way. In a "here's the itemized list of opportunities you're squandering" kind of way.

I'd stumbled across a prompt making rounds in productivity circles: "Based on what you know about me, what are my blind spots? What opportunities am I missing? What potential am I squandering?"

The responses from people who'd tried it ranged from "whoa" to "I can't believe this" to "I need to sit down." So naturally, I had to test it myself.

I threw it into ChatGPT - the same tool I use dozens of times daily for work. Email drafts. Strategy analysis. "Hey, tell me how to handle this client situation." A thinking partner that never judges, never tires, never asks for lunch breaks.

I expected generic platitudes. Maybe some surface-level observations about time management or focus.

Instead, I got a mirror I didn't know I needed.

The Uncomfortable Accuracy of AI as Mirror

"You underestimate how much influence you actually have," it started.

Ouch.

It went on to catalog the ways I treat serious work as a "side hustle." The intellectual property I generate but never package. The expertise I downplay because "if I found this information, it's already out there, so I'm not the expert."

That last one hit hardest.

I've spent twenty years learning podcasting, audio production, health tech, and masculinity research. But because I found the information through exploration rather than formal education, I've always positioned myself as "just a guy who found some stuff" rather than "someone who knows this deeply."

ChatGPT saw through that instantly.

"With what you've been doing for as long as you've been doing it," it noted, "the thing you've been treating as separate from your professional work is actually the platform you should be building on."

I had to read it three times.

Why AI Knows You Better Than You Think

Here's what's wild about this experiment: ChatGPT doesn't have some mystical insight into human psychology. It's not reading your aura or channeling your subconscious.

It's just paying attention.

Every question you ask reveals what you don't know - or what you think you don't know. Every conversation shows your hesitations, your expertise gaps, and your patterns of self-doubt. The tool remembers thousands of interactions that you've long forgotten. And from that data, it can map surprisingly accurate pictures of your strengths, weaknesses, and especially your blind spots.

When my co-host Jason ran the same prompt, ChatGPT told him he was "a Ferrari forcing everyone into a school bus." Translation: he moves so fast through strategy, architecture, and implementation that he forgets others only see fragments of his thinking. His blind spot? Assuming everyone's keeping up when they're actually lost.

The assessment was brutally accurate. I've watched this dynamic play out in real time.

The Super Competent Leader Tax

One pattern emerged for both of us: when you're good at everything, you forget you shouldn't DO everything.

ChatGPT flagged this as "the super competent leader tax." You become your own bottleneck. Others underdevelop because they never get to carry meaningful weight. And because you make it all look easy, people don't realize how much you're actually carrying.

The impact? Burnout for you. Under development for your team. Missed opportunities to scale what you do best.

For me, that showed up as treating every creative project as something I had to execute alone rather than something I could build a platform around. For Jason, it was doing thousand-dollar-per-hour consulting work and calling it "just helping out."

We're both leaving value on the table. We've just been too close to see it.

What Playing Small Actually Costs

The phrase "playing small" sounds like self-help nonsense until you realize what it actually means: having the capacity for a bigger impact but choosing the comfortable cage instead.

Not because you're lazy. Not because you lack ambition.

Because exposure feels risky. Because claiming your expertise feels presumptuous. Because the big swing might fail, and a lifetime of "I tried, and it didn't work" sounds scarier than a lifetime of "what if?"

Except it's not.

As we discussed in the episode, a short failure beats decades of wondering. You can get into the Baseball Hall of Fame with a .300 batting average. You can build something meaningful while fucking up constantly.

Perfection isn't the goal. Movement is.

The Prompt Worth Trying

If you're curious - or brave - here's the full prompt:

"Based on what you know about me from our conversations, what are my blind spots? What opportunities am I missing? What potential am I squandering? What should I be paying attention to that I'm probably not?"

Fair warning: the answer might sting.

But discomfort is usually a sign you're looking at something real. Something you've been avoiding. Something that, if addressed, could shift your trajectory in ways you haven't imagined yet.

I ran this experiment expecting nothing. I got a roadmap to the next version of what I'm building.

Your AI assistant has been quietly cataloging your patterns for months, maybe years. It knows your hesitations. Your expertise. Your deflections.

Ask it what it sees. See if you're ready to hear the answer.

Listen to the full conversation on the BroBots podcast, where two skeptical nerds stress-test AI, health tech, and modern masculinity - without the guru bullshit.