Someone Believed in Me Before I Believed in Myself

I was in my mid-twenties when I was offered my first executive position. At the time, I was raising my son as a single mother, working full-time, and attending college at night and on weekends. My life was a constant balancing act, and most days felt like a race between responsibilities. Leadership wasn't something I was actively pursuing. I was focused on building a life, creating stability for my son, and doing the best job I could with the opportunities in front of me.

When I was approached about stepping into an executive role, I was surprised. Not because I lacked ambition, but because I genuinely wasn't sure what they saw in me.

The position would require skills I didn't have. Strategic planning, budgeting, marketing, public speaking, and business development all felt outside my wheelhouse. I understood people. I understood service. I understood how to work hard. But this felt like an entirely different level of responsibility.

Truthfully…I questioned whether I was capable of doing the job.

There was also a practical consideration. The original offer didn't come with a raise. I remember thinking, "Why would I take on significantly more responsibility for the same pay?" I declined the position. They came back with a different offer, and eventually I said yes.

What stands out to me now isn't the negotiation. It's the fact that someone believed I could do something I wasn't entirely convinced I could do myself, and that belief mattered.

The CEO saw potential in me long before I fully recognized it. Looking back, I realize how often that happens in leadership. Sometimes other people see our capacity before we do. Sometimes they see strengths we've dismissed as ordinary because they've always come naturally to us.

At the time, though, I wasn't thinking about potential. I was trying to survive each day without anyone discovering how much I didn't know.

I wish I could tell you that confidence arrived the moment I accepted the position, but it didn't. Confidence came much later. What arrived first was discomfort. I was learning new skills, navigating unfamiliar situations, and stretching in ways I hadn't before. Some days, I felt capable. On other days, I felt completely out of my depth.

Over time, I learned that leadership development rarely happens in comfortable seasons. We tend to grow the most when we're challenged, uncertain, and forced to figure things out before we feel fully prepared.

Some of my growth came from mentors who generously shared their knowledge and perspective. Some came through trial and error. Some came from successes that reinforced what was possible. And some came from difficult experiences that showed me exactly how I didn't want to lead.

I don't mean that critically. In fact, some of the most valuable leadership lessons I've learned came from observing situations where communication broke down, transparency was missing, or difficult conversations were avoided. Those experiences helped me understand the kind of culture I wanted to create and the kind of leader I wanted to become.

Over the last two decades, my philosophy about leadership has continued to evolve. Early in my career, I thought organizational success was primarily about strategy, execution, and results. Today, I believe those outcomes are deeply connected to something many organizations overlook…people.

Not in a performative sense. Not in the way organizations sometimes talk about people while making decisions that suggest otherwise. I mean genuinely understanding that trust, relationships, communication, and belonging are not separate from performance. They are the foundation of it.

I've seen firsthand what happens when people feel valued. I've seen what happens when leaders communicate honestly, create psychological safety, and build environments where people know they matter. Teams collaborate differently. Challenges are approached differently. Accountability feels different because it's built on trust rather than fear.

The older I get, the more convinced I become that putting people first isn't at odds with organizational success. It's one of the fastest paths to achieving it.

When I think back to that young woman in her twenties, juggling work, school, and motherhood while stepping into an executive position she wasn't sure she deserved, I wish I could tell her to worry less about whether she was ready.

I would tell her that leadership isn't about having all the answers. It's about being willing to keep learning. It's about staying curious. It's about having the courage to step forward even when confidence hasn't caught up yet.

Most of all, I would tell her that the people she leads will always matter more than the title on her business card.

That lesson took me years to fully understand, and it's also the one that has made the biggest difference.