Leadership, Legacy, and the Labyrinth of Dealing with Zach

 

There’s a unique kind of emotional calculus that unfolds when your adversary isn’t a stranger but your own brother. Zachary Mitchell — a name that once simply meant “sibling” — has become an emblem of everything I’ve chosen to evolve beyond: manipulation, ego-driven leadership, emotional avoidance, and a penchant for performance over authenticity.

Zach’s leadership style is best described as controlling and image-centric. His primary currency is optics — starting a leadership podcast while simultaneously undermining real leadership behind closed doors. He thrives in environments where emotional honesty is absent, where control is mistaken for competence, and where loyalty is expected without reciprocity.

Growing up under the same roof, I experienced Zach not as a brother but as a bully. He leveraged emotional triangulation, avoided direct communication, and sought to push me out of the family business I helped build. When he did communicate, it was often through others — a technique rooted in passive-aggression and psychological evasion. In one particularly surreal moment, I watched camera footage of him plotting my removal from the very company we co-owned. That’s not leadership. That’s sabotage with a smile.

The origins of Net All Over are steeped in a cocktail of timing, family dynamics, and manipulation. After COVID-19 began, Zach lost his job. Our father — interpreting that my business, Bravado Broadband, was declining — decided to pivot. At that time, I was in the mountains of Tennessee and North Carolina, testing LTE equipment and pushing the boundaries of service delivery in rural terrain. While I was deep in the technical trenches, Zach was laying the foundation of a new business with our father — without me. By the time I returned to San Antonio for my full-time position, the narrative and power structure were already cemented.

I sensed resentment from Zach the moment it was suggested that I become part of the new venture. He had always longed for our father's backing to start something of his own. He never received it — until he did, through co-opting the narrative around my efforts. To him, I was the golden child, the one who got the help he thought he deserved. And while he wouldn't say it out loud, his behaviors screamed it: obstruction, micromanagement, exclusion, and passive-aggressive jabs cloaked in charm.

In contrast, my approach has always been grounded in integrity, technical excellence, and servant leadership. My background in cybersecurity, cloud architecture, and operations was not just a career path — it was a discipline, a way to build, protect, and elevate others. I mentored. I taught. I listened. I didn’t need a podcast to prove I was a leader; my results and relationships did the talking.

While Zach was busy reselling unstable LTE setups and inflating his role, I was stabilizing infrastructure, launching Bravado Broadband in 2014, and building systems that would endure beyond my presence. Though I shut Bravado down by 2023, its legacy of technical depth and resilience remains a core part of my journey. Yet even after I exited, he continued to benefit from my contributions — financially and operationally — while refusing to reach out, apologize, or even acknowledge the damage.

What he continues to do is more insidious: silence, avoidance, and denial — all wrapped in a charismatic façade that keeps others believing in his curated narrative. He weaponizes charm, distances himself from accountability, and thrives off public praise while privately disempowering those who pose a threat to his control.

But here’s the part I own: I let it happen longer than I should have. Loyalty blinded me. So did hope. The hope that a brother might finally recognize the pain he caused, the work I did, and the value I brought. That hope was the final chain I broke.

Now, I lead my own narrative — not as a reaction to Zach, but as a declaration of who I truly am. A man of resilience. A builder. A thinker. A protector. And most of all, a leader who doesn’t just demand respect — I embody it.

Let Zach keep his curated crown. I’m building a legacy — one founded not on ego, but on evolution.