Or… I used to.

Lately, I’ve been rethinking that.

I’m reading The Science of Scaling by Dr. Benjamin Hardy, and accountability keeps popping up everywhere. Books. Podcasts. Coaching conversations. Sales teams trying to hit goals. It’s like the universe is saying, “Hey… we’re not done with this topic.”

And I’ll be honest… I used to say it out loud: I hate being held accountable.
Because in my mind, I held myself accountable.

But here’s where that thinking gets challenged…

Let’s start here.
A great office culture isn’t created with free snacks, ping pong tables, or a once-a-year holiday party.

It’s built intentionally. Over time. With consistency.

And while some leaders are naturally wired for people, connection, and energy, culture isn’t something you either “have” or you don’t. It’s something you build, reinforce, and protect.

The organizations that get this right don’t just feel different… they perform differently too.

Companies with strong cultures see up to 4x higher revenue growth and significantly lower turnover compared to those that don’t prioritize it. Engaged teams are also 17% more productive and 21% more profitable.

So where do you start?

I was just interviewing a guest for Women In… and we started talking about her first job.

It stopped me for a second.

Because it made me think about how far we’ve actually come… and how long the story really is.

On paper, I’ve been working for 25 years. I graduated college in 2001 (yes… 2001). But if I’m being honest, it’s way longer than that.

My first real job was in 1994 at Bob Evans on South Westnedge. Kalamazoo people know exactly the one. I was making $4.25 an hour as a busser.

This was back when people still smoked inside. No cell phones. No technology. Just showing up, doing the work, and hoping your section turned fast.

I would come home smelling like syrup, sausage, and cigarettes.

And I loved it.

I had that job for about 9 months, which at the time felt like forever. But it was my first taste of making my own money. Real W2 money. Not allowance. Not “you did your chores, here you go.” This was different. This was mine.

And that feeling… it sticks with you.

Not because things don’t go wrong. They do. A lot. But because of what we’ve been taught that word means.

Somewhere along the way, failure became this heavy, defining label. Like if something doesn’t work out, it says something about you. Your ability. Your worth. Your potential.

I don’t buy that.

What most people call failure is actually information. It’s feedback. It’s the moment where you get clear on what worked, what didn’t, and what needs to change. That’s not failure. That’s data.

Research supports this. Carol Dweck has spent decades studying how people think about success and setbacks. Her work on growth mindset shows that when you view challenges as opportunities to learn instead of proof that you’re not capable, your performance improves. Same situation, different story, completely different outcome.

The issue isn’t failure. It’s avoidance.

Avoiding the thing because it might not work. Staying in something safe because at least you know how it ends. Not taking the risk because you don’t want to get it wrong.

That’s what actually keeps people stuck.

Have you ever stood in the grocery aisle staring at salsa and hummus, thinking you must choose one or the other? Or scrolled social media and felt like posts are either inspiring or annoying, with nothing in between? That instinct to pick a side shows up everywhere. We often default to either/or thinking, as if life only works in clear, opposing choices.

But what if life is not meant to be solved that way? What if we practiced yes/and thinking instead, the ability to hold more than one truth at the same time?

I’ll admit this upfront. Saying YES to myself and attending empowHER 2026 still takes effort.

Which is funny, considering I created it.

I’m currently sitting at the National Sports Forum in St. Louis, and I love this conference. It’s big. It’s jam-packed with learning. There are facility tours, nonstop networking, side conversations, team bonding, and that buzzing energy that reminds you why you’re in this industry in the first place.

There’s so much value here.

And like anything, there are also trade-offs.

Somewhere along the way, the word representation picked up baggage. It started getting treated like a checkbox, a talking point, or a political stance instead of what it actually is: a practical advantage for organizations that want to grow, adapt, and stay relevant.

Representation isn’t about optics. It’s about insight.

When teams reflect a wider range of lived experiences, they make better decisions. Period.

“Servant leadership” is one of the most overused phrases in leadership today. It sounds good. It signals care. It feels values-driven.

But too often, it is talked about and not practiced.

True servant leadership is not about optics or intention. It is about behavior, consistency, and follow-through. It is about putting people in a position to succeed and taking responsibility when they cannot.

It’s February.
Winter is dragging. The days are shorter. The sun feels optional. And you might be wondering why your motivation doesn’t look the way it usually does.

First things first.
Who decided what “normal motivation” even is?

If you’re feeling frustrated, flat, or less energized than usual, you’re not broken. You’re human. And there’s actual science behind why motivation feels harder this time of year.

Let’s name something that most people feel but few want to say out loud.

There’s a version of professionalism that looks polished on the surface but feels hollow underneath. It’s the version where people perform, posture, and say what they think they should say. And here’s the uncomfortable truth: most people think no one notices.

They do.

Being “fake” in the business world rarely comes from bad intentions. It usually comes from fear. Fear of being judged. Fear of losing opportunity. Fear of not being enough. And ironically, the very thing people are trying to protect is often what gets quietly eroded over time: trust, credibility, and confidence.

On the flip side, being authentic, genuine, and yourself doesn’t mean oversharing, being reckless, or ignoring professional standards. It means alignment. It means your words, actions, values, and decisions aren’t constantly at odds with who you actually are.

And yes, you can still accomplish big career goals that way. In fact, it’s often the only way to do it sustainably.

Raise your hand.
Sit in the front.
Ask the question everyone else is thinking but no one is saying out loud.

For many people, especially women and early-career leaders, speaking up in meetings can feel risky. We worry about sounding unprepared, being judged, or taking up too much space. So we stay quiet. We observe. We learn. And while there is real value in listening, growth and leadership require more than silence.

Being quiet can help you gather information. Speaking up is how you shape the room.

Two of the most powerful phrases we can say are also two of the hardest:

I don’t know.
No.

Both tend to trigger discomfort, fear, and a whole lot of stories we tell ourselves. We worry about how we’ll be perceived. We worry about disappointing people. We worry about looking unqualified, incapable, or selfish.

But in reality, these two phrases are not weaknesses. They are skills. And when used intentionally, they can change how you lead, learn, and live.

In my recent Women In… interview with Jake White, co-founder of Vive 18, we unpacked something that sits at the core of so many struggles I see in leadership, wellness, and personal growth.

The difference between shortcuts and skill sets.

At first glance, a shortcut feels harmless. It promises quick relief. A way to take the edge off. A pause button when life feels heavy.

But shortcuts don’t actually solve the problem. They delay it.

Skill Sets, on the other hand, take time to build. They’re uncomfortable at first. They require repetition, awareness, and patience. But they create real resilience.

I’m not talking about sports today. I’m talking about life.

One of my personal challenges in leadership, relationships, and every version of myself has been slipping into defense. Defending what I’m doing. Why I’m doing it. Decisions I’ve made. The pace I move. The goals I set. Even who I am.

Defense is reactive. It waits for judgment, questions, criticism, or comparison to show up, then responds.

And living that way is exhausting.

Recently, I decided to take a deeper look at myself and shift from a defensive mindset to an offensive one. Offense is not aggressive. It is intentional, forward-moving, rooted, and confident in direction instead of apologizing for it.

Leadership isn’t just about strategy, vision, and results. It’s about the experience people have when working with you. It’s about the micro moments that either build trust or chip away at it. And sometimes, the things leaders say without thinking are the very things that undermine their culture.

If you are a leader, here are four things to stop doing immediately and what to do instead.

If you’ve ever found yourself drowning in commitments you never actually wanted, you’re not alone. On Women In…, my conversation with Sarah Bolor cracked open a truth many high-achieving women quietly carry: we don’t just overcommit because we’re busy — we overcommit because we’re conditioned to.

And then, in a separate conversation, Brigitta Dau introduced me to the deeper layer beneath that habit: the shadows we don’t want to look at, the parts of ourselves we’ve tucked away, and the belief systems running the show behind our “yes.”

When you put these two conversations together, something real happens. You start to see that overcommitment isn’t simply a scheduling problem. It’s a self-worth problem. A visibility problem. A shadow problem.

And the solution isn’t just time management. It’s truth management.

Let’s break this down.

Burnout doesn’t happen overnight. It sneaks in quietly under the disguise of “just one more project,” “just one more late night,” or “I’ll rest after this busy stretch.” It’s the fatigue you ignore, the spark that fades so slowly you forget what feeling energized even feels like.

In leadership, sports, and especially in high-visibility industries like professional hockey, burnout often gets mistaken for dedication. We’re told to push through, grind harder, and wear exhaustion like a badge of honor. But the truth? You can’t lead, create, or perform at your best when you’re running on empty.

Every year, I set one simple but powerful personal goal:
Read my age.

That means this year, at 47, I’ll read 47 books.

It’s a challenge, a ritual, and a reflection of who I am — a learner, a leader, and a coach who believes growth never stops.

Whether I’m speaking at conferences, coaching women one-on-one, or recording an episode of Women In…, one question always comes up: “How do I build confidence in myself?”

Here’s the short answer — and maybe the best-kept secret: Confidence isn’t built by thinking differently. It’s built by doing differently.

Confidence isn’t something you wait to feel before you act. It’s the result of taking small, consistent actions that build evidence that you can trust yourself.

If you want to feel more confident, stop trying to think your way there — and start doing your way there.

Every once in a while, we get hit with a spark — that really good idea that you just know could make a difference. Maybe it would streamline a process, create a better experience for customers or fans, or just fix something that’s been bugging everyone for ages.

But here’s the thing: having the idea is the easy part. The real magic happens when you bring it forward, get leadership buy-in, and see it through to the finish line.

This topic came alive during a recent Women In… podcast conversation with Kaleigh O’Brien, who shared some excellent insights about stepping up inside your organization. I walked away from that conversation thinking, we need to talk more about how to actually do this.

Here are five practical steps to take your idea from “I’ve been thinking…” to “Wow, look what we accomplished.”