Ryan Reynold’s Speech Will Leave You SPEECHLESS — Best Life Advice

Ryan Reynolds is one of the most recognized Canadian actors in Hollywood. He established his persona as a charismatic, quirky and quick-witted smart aleck in a wide range of Canadian and Hollywood films. This is one of his most EYE OPENING speeches!

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Don’t take life too seriously because you’ll never get out alive. It’s very true, you know? You’re never going to get out alive, so have some fun. I read that you were supposed to be in college, but you moved to LA without your parents knowing. Is that true? I was supposed to be at Kwantlen University in British Columbia, Canada. I went there for 45 minutes, then said, “Nope,” and left. I moved to Los Angeles to get into improv comedy. “I’m going to do this thing and give it a year. If it works, great. If it doesn’t, I’ll go back to school, get a degree, and join the workforce.”

Did your parents find out when they saw you on TV, or did you tell them? It was about six weeks into my trip to Los Angeles. I called them and said, “Hey, I’m in Los Angeles. I’m not in school.” My father hung up on me, but my mom called back. She was always the voice of reason, and eventually, my father came around. I ran out of money, so I asked an agency to meet with me. I called about 10 agencies, and finally got my foot in the door with one really small agency. I told them, “If you send me out on five auditions, I don’t care what they are, I promise I’ll come back with one.” Somehow, I got the fourth one. I got a sitcom, which was probably the best job I ever had, not because of the money, but because it was live audience comedy, which is what I wanted to do.

The sitcom world is about six or seven months of work a year. After the season ended, I would go backpacking all over the world. I think I spent that money wisely; I got to see the world and have experiences. Everything happened for me in an aggregate, slow and steady way. I’m grateful for that momentum, unlike the rocket-ship rise to fame that some experience. Fame can be a weird animal to deal with. For me, it happened slowly, like getting into a bath over the course of a year—you just immerse yourself without getting shocked.

Most people think everything in Hollywood is all or nothing: you’re either the biggest star, or you’re done. But I got lucky and found that middle ground where I could slowly build my career. When I was young, I didn’t picture acting as a career. I thought I’d end up in law enforcement like my family. Acting wasn’t a passion; it was something I did at home to survive. I realized making people laugh was a great defense mechanism and helped me navigate my way through tough situations. In high school, I hid my acting from peers. I was happiest being invisible, just trying to get through and live my life.

I was the youngest of four brothers, two of whom became cops, like my dad. Growing up, I survived by using my wits, not my fists. It was a rough household, but now we’re all very close. The experience made me hyper-perceptive and contributed to my path in show business. I learned to mimic people and pick up on signs of danger. I had anxiety and phobias as a kid, but over time, I came to see those traits as assets. They helped me in my work, making me perceptive and able to sense both real and non-existent dangers.

The biggest lesson I’ve learned in the business side of acting is to always embrace the idea that you know nothing, because you don’t. As soon as you think you know exactly what audiences want, you’re surprised. Film is a collaborative process, and the best leaders hire the best people. I’m not an entrepreneur, but I’ve found a few things in life that I believe in with every cell in my body.

Family is the most important thing to me. My time with them is prioritized over anything else. A few years ago, I ran the New York Marathon to raise money for the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s research. My father had Parkinson’s and passed away a few years ago. He was a proud man and rarely talked about his illness. He was a strong man—an ex-boxer and a cop—so the disease forced him to reassess his identity. It was tough to watch someone who never expressed his feelings deal with the loss of his physicality. I sometimes wonder if we get sick because we don’t express ourselves enough.

As my father’s Parkinson’s progressed, I saw how it robbed him of the physicality that had been such a core part of his identity. He was the archetypal strong man: a boxer, a cop, and someone who prided himself on never showing weakness. He didn’t talk about his illness much, and I think in the entire time he had Parkinson’s, he only mentioned it to me twice. It was tough watching him go through that. You start to wonder if part of what makes people sicker is that inability to express themselves, to talk about what they’re going through. My father was a guy who crammed down his emotions and never let them out. I wonder if that contributes to the illness in some way.

That’s why it was so important for me to run the New York Marathon and raise money for the Michael J. Fox Foundation. My father was someone who never really accepted his disease openly, but through organizations like the foundation, we can help break down the stigma and encourage people to talk about their struggles with Parkinson’s. It’s such a vital part of the process—bringing awareness and getting people to understand the disease.

When I think about the future, family remains my top priority. Everything I do, every project I take on, is planned around ensuring that I have time for my family. It’s non-negotiable. Sometimes, it frustrates the people I work with, but that’s just the way it is. Family comes first, always. That’s also why the marathon meant so much to me—it was about honoring my father and supporting something bigger than myself.

When it comes to my career, I’ve been incredibly lucky to work with some of the best people in the industry, and I’ve learned the importance of collaboration. The best projects are always the result of a team effort. I don’t believe in being the smartest person in the room; I believe in surrounding myself with smart people who can challenge me and teach me. Whether it’s acting or producing, the key is to hire the best people you can—those you connect with, trust, and can learn from. For me, that’s the heart of any creative process.

As much as I love the industry, I’ve never been someone who’s obsessed with the business side of things. I’m not the guy tracking the stock market or thinking about entrepreneurial ventures. I’d never describe myself as an entrepreneur. I’m just someone who’s found a few things in life that I truly believe in, and I’ve given those things everything I’ve got. That’s what drives me—the projects and people I care about, not the financial side or trying to create a business empire.

I think one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned in this industry is to embrace uncertainty. You can never really predict how something’s going to turn out, and that’s okay. As soon as you think you’ve got it all figured out, life has a way of surprising you. You have to remain open, stay curious, and always be ready to listen and adapt. Whether it’s a film, a TV show, or any kind of creative endeavor, it’s all about collaboration, and it’s all about learning. The moment you think you know everything is the moment you stop growing.

Looking back at how my career has unfolded, I feel incredibly fortunate. Things didn’t happen all at once for me. There wasn’t some overnight rise to stardom. Instead, it was a slow, steady climb, and I’m grateful for that. I’ve seen so many people burn out or struggle when fame comes too quickly, and I’ve been lucky to avoid that. It was more like easing into a warm bath rather than jumping into freezing cold water. That gradual rise gave me the time to adjust, to learn, and to figure out what kind of career I wanted.

I think a lot of people in Hollywood feel this pressure that it’s all or nothing—you’re either the biggest star on the planet, or you’re forgotten. I found a middle ground, where I could build my career at my own pace and find balance between work and life. That balance has been everything to me, especially when it comes to prioritizing my family.

As a kid, I never imagined I’d end up in show business. I come from a family of cops, and I always thought I’d follow in their footsteps. Acting wasn’t something I was passionate about; it was just a way to get out of the house. I grew up in a rough household, the youngest of four boys, and I learned early on that making people laugh was my best defense mechanism. Humor became my way of navigating the world and surviving. That skill, that ability to make people laugh, ultimately shaped my career, even though it wasn’t something I sought out initially.

High school was tough, and I kept my acting hidden. I wanted to fly under the radar, to be invisible. Most of the work I did was shown in the United States, so it wasn’t as well known in Canada, which helped me keep a low profile. I wasn’t the kid who celebrated my acting gigs; I just wanted to get through high school and move on with my life.

Growing up in a household with three older brothers, two of whom became cops like my dad, shaped who I am in profound ways. I had to survive on my wits because I wasn’t as physical as they were. Roughhousing for them was fun; for me, it felt like a life-threatening situation. That experience made me hyper-perceptive, constantly aware of my surroundings, which later became a useful skill in acting. I could read people, mimic them, and pick up on subtle cues, all of which played into my success in show business.

At the same time, growing up with anxiety and different phobias was challenging. It took me years to recognize those traits as strengths rather than weaknesses. Even now, I still struggle with those feelings, but I’ve come to see them as gifts. That hyper-awareness, that ability to sense danger—both real and imagined—has been a powerful asset in my work. It’s something that has helped me, even though it’s been a challenge to live with.

Ultimately, I believe the key to any success in life, whether in acting or anything else, is to remain open to learning and growing. You have to surround yourself with the right people, collaborate, and always remember that you don’t know everything. That’s how you keep moving forward, and that’s how you build a career that lasts.

In reflecting on my career and personal life, I think it’s important to acknowledge that growth is a continual process. You’re never really “done” learning or evolving, no matter how much success you experience. That’s a key takeaway for me, not just in my work but in every aspect of life. The most successful people are those who recognize their limitations, embrace their ignorance, and remain willing to seek out new perspectives and learn from others. Whether it’s in acting, producing, or just being a better person, it’s about accepting that you’re always a work in progress.

The unpredictability of life, especially in show business, is something I’ve learned to embrace rather than fear. Early in my career, I decided to give acting a year, just to see if it would work out. If it didn’t, I would have gone back to school and followed a more traditional path. But the risks I took paid off—not instantly, but slowly and steadily over time. I think that’s a critical lesson for anyone in any career. You don’t always need immediate results or instant gratification. Sometimes, the best things come from being patient and allowing opportunities to develop naturally. Success isn’t always a rocket ship; for some of us, it’s a long, gradual climb that allows you to find balance and longevity in your career.

Looking back, I’m grateful for how things unfolded. I didn’t get caught up in the whirlwind of fame, and that allowed me to maintain a sense of normalcy. Fame can be a strange and often damaging thing, especially if it hits you too hard, too fast. I’ve seen many people in this industry come and go, often in tragic ways. I was fortunate enough to avoid that path because things happened at a pace that allowed me to adjust. It’s easy to be overwhelmed by the demands and pressures of Hollywood, but having a slow and steady rise helped me navigate it all with a bit more clarity.

I also think about the importance of finding the right balance between ambition and personal fulfillment. For me, that fulfillment has always been rooted in family. No matter how much I love my work, nothing is more important than spending time with my loved ones. That was one of the main reasons I was so deeply involved in raising awareness for Parkinson’s disease and running the marathon for the Michael J. Fox Foundation. It was personal—it wasn’t about gaining recognition or accolades but about doing something meaningful for my family, for my father, and for a cause I believe in. That kind of meaning goes far beyond any success I could find in my career.

As I move forward, I continue to value collaboration and teamwork more than anything. Every project is a learning experience, and I strive to work with people who challenge me and push me to grow. That’s where the magic happens—in those moments of collective effort and creativity. Whether it’s on the set of a film or in my personal life, surrounding myself with the right people and nurturing those relationships is what sustains me.

I’ve come to understand that real success isn’t just about accolades, fame, or money—it’s about the people you journey with and the experiences you collect along the way. Those are the things that last. And at the end of the day, that’s what I’m most proud of—the connections I’ve made, the lessons I’ve learned, and the memories I’ve created, both personally and professionally.

As for the future, I know my focus will remain the same: family, meaningful work, and continuing to grow. There’s always something new to learn, always a new challenge to tackle, and always ways to be a better version of yourself. For me, that’s what life is all about—continuing to move forward, one step at a time, and never losing sight of what truly matters.