Respect Me, Once The Dust Settles.

Ian Schwartzman

Sometimes you walk into an opportunity hoping to leave with a little more than you came with. Sometimes you leave without what you wanted, but with something you needed.

In this episode, I reflect on a recent conversation with Ian Schwartzman, who gave me the opportunity to pitch my podcast, Respect Me, Once The Dust Settles, during a Twitter Space. Although I didn't walk away with the investment, I walked away with valuable feedback, a clearer understanding of where I am in my journey, and a renewed sense of what needs to happen next.

From recognizing the difference between having a vision and having the structure to support it, to getting serious about my analytics, finances, and the future of the podcast, this experience reminded me that potential is only the beginning. The work has to continue.

This isn't a story about rejection or proving somebody wrong. It's about appreciating an honest conversation, taking accountability for what's missing, and using the experience to become better at what I'm building.

Ian, thank you for the opportunity, the honesty, and the reminder to keep going.

I intend to circle back. And when I do, I plan to have a lot more to show.

Respect Me, Once The Dust Settles.

Victoria Monét has been reminding me just how incredible R&B can be, and Snoh Aalegra's return with “Karma” gave me another reason to fall in love with the genre all over again.

In this episode, I get into the artistry, anticipation, and emotional depth that make these two women so special. From Victoria's ability to honor the classics while creating something entirely her own to Snoh's long-awaited return, we're talking about the kind of R&B that stays with you long after the song ends.

There's an entire sector of music being slept on while the noise surrounding the industry buries the very thing that makes music matter: the feeling. Great artists are out here creating records that deserve to be heard, and I think we're approaching one of those moments in R&B that people will look back on and say, you had to be there.

The music is good. The feels are back. Now let's give these artists their flowers while the music is still playing.

Respect Me, Once The Dust Settles.

Why Would I Say Free the Bros?

People want to be liked and accepted so badly that they'll publicly stand behind a movement without even knowing what they're supporting. In this episode, I get into the social media culture of blind allegiance, performative loyalty, and the pressure to prove you're down for your people regardless of what they've done.

When did being a good friend start requiring you to abandon your own judgment? And what happens when the same person you're defending wouldn't think twice about doing you dirty?

This isn't about abandoning your friends. It's about understanding the difference between loyalty and blind allegiance, and why knowing somebody doesn't mean you have to cosign every decision they make.

Everybody wants to be the bro until it's time to ask some questions.

Free the bro? Nah. Free your mind.

Respect Me, Once The Dust Settles.

Know Who You’re Talking To

Sometimes the opportunity that comes at the right time comes with conditions you never saw coming. After landing what seemed like the perfect remote job, I quickly learned that being good at your job doesn't always mean you'll be respected for it. From questionable management and conflicting expectations to tripling my monthly goal with no real path for growth, I reached a point where the paycheck wasn't worth the price of my peace.

In this episode, I tell the story of what happened with my former boss, why I ultimately walked away, and how finding a better opportunity reminded me that I don't have to compromise my worth to make a living. This is about workplace respect, knowing when enough is enough, and understanding the difference between being needed and being valued.

Sometimes the best response isn't an argument or another attempt to make things work. Sometimes it's recognizing what you're dealing with, making your next move, and leaving on your own terms.

Know who you're talking to. Always choose respect, and never compromise your peace.

Respect Me, Once The Dust Settles.

I think I developed my type before I even knew I had one.

From Tatyana Ali and Karyn Parsons to Janet Jackson, T-Boz, Nia Long, Lela Rochon, and the women who made the 90s feel like the 90s, this episode is a love letter to the women who helped shape my idea of beauty.

Growing up, beauty came in different faces, different personalities, different styles, and different kinds of presence. Looking back at the women I admired, I realize how much individuality influenced what I find attractive today.

This isn't a ranking or a trip down memory lane for nostalgia's sake. It's appreciation for an era, the women who defined parts of it, and the memories that never really left.

Maybe being a 90s baby has more to do with my taste than I realized.

Respect Me, Once The Dust Settles.

What happened to the word “weird”?

When I was a kid, weird actually meant weird. The kid eating loose-leaf paper, reminding the teacher about homework, or doing something that made absolutely no sense had earned the title.

Now it feels like “weird” has become something else entirely. Having an opinion that doesn't match the crowd can get you labeled weird. Refusing to participate in a trend can get you called weird. Choosing to think for yourself can somehow make you the problem.

So what are the parameters?

In this episode, I’m thinking about conformity, individuality, internet culture, the pressure to perform an identity, and the contradictions I see everywhere around me. Maybe the strange thing isn't being different. Maybe it's how uncomfortable we've become with people who refuse to follow the crowd.

Because if being yourself makes you weird, I'm starting to think weird might not be such a bad thing.

After a long break, I’m back.

This episode takes me all the way back to kindergarten graduation — the uncomfortable dress shoes, searching the auditorium for your parents, the camera flashes, the little friends beside you, and the moment an entire room of children came together to sing “I Believe I Can Fly.”

At that age, we didn't understand everything we were singing. We simply believed it.

Looking back now, I wonder if those moments planted something much bigger than childhood memories. Before I understood ambition, discipline, faith, or legacy, I experienced what it felt like to believe that my life could become something great.

Decades later, I'm still dreaming. Still creating. Still praying. Still trying to become the person that little boy imagined he could be.

The kids will never understand what that moment felt like.

And that's the difference.

Welcome back.

I thought my podcast was missing something. The sound, the atmosphere, the vibe. Then I realized I wasn't trying to fix the podcast.

I was trying to fix a feeling in my life.

In this episode, I talk honestly about my growing disconnect with Dallas, what I miss about New York, why culture and environment matter more to me than I realized, and the kind of life I actually want to wake up to.

This isn't really about leaving Dallas. It's about figuring out where I feel most like myself—and why Toronto keeps entering that conversation.

At 33, I'm starting to think differently about where I want to spend the next chapter of my life.

Because I don't just want a different address.

I want to recognize the man living inside it.

Episode Description

I used to think I knew what love was.

I thought love was intensity. Romance. Affection. Wanting somebody so badly that their presence could change the entire feeling of a room.

But getting older has changed the question.

I don't just want to be loved anymore. I want to be known.

In this episode, I explore the difference between the love we imagine when we're young and the love we begin to understand after we've actually lived. The kind of love that isn't built entirely on chemistry or grand gestures, but on curiosity, friendship, understanding, trust, growth, and the quiet decision to keep learning another person.

Because maybe the love we need isn't something we've never experienced.

Maybe it's hidden inside everything we've already learned about being loved.

The Love I Need, The Love I Know.

If you've ever wondered what kind of love you're actually looking for now—not the love you were taught to want, but the love that makes sense to the person you've become—this one is for you.

HAVE I BEEN UNGRATEFUL MY ENTIRE LIFE?

I took an edible, got deep in thought, and somehow ended up questioning my entire relationship with money, material things, ambition, and gratitude.

Growing up, my parents made sure I had what I needed. I had good meals, new clothes, regular haircuts, money for school, and parents who consistently showed up for me. I didn't grow up with every designer brand or the latest Jordans, but I was never neglected.

So why did I grow up promising myself that when I had money, I would buy everything I couldn't have?

Why did $20 shirts eventually become $100 shirts? Why did having good sneakers become needing expensive sneakers? And when did wanting nice things turn into believing I needed them?

Maybe I wasn't deprived.

Maybe I was comparing.

This episode is about the difference between wanting more and believing what you already have isn't enough. It's about childhood, status, money, ambition, comparison, our parents, and the uncomfortable realization that sometimes we don't recognize a blessing because it became normal.

I still want more.

I still want to build something bigger.

But maybe gratitude isn't about killing ambition.

Maybe gratitude is what keeps ambition from becoming greed.

Listen to the full episode of Respect Me Once The Dust Settles.