The Six Toni Truths: A Leadership Framework for Women Who Want to Redefine Success

When people ask me where my Six Toni Truths came from, they usually assume I spent months researching leadership theories, attended conferences, or hired an executive coach to help me develop a framework.

The truth is much less glamorous. They were born out of complete ignorance.

When I accepted the role as General Manager of the Kalamazoo Wings, I knew almost nothing about hockey. I understood leadership. I understood business. I had spent years in banking and economic development building teams and leading people. But hockey? That was an entirely different world. I couldn't explain an icing call, I didn't know the unwritten rules of the sport, and I certainly hadn't spent decades climbing the hockey ladder like many of my peers.

Looking back, it's funny how little that actually mattered.

At the time, I wasn't trying to build a leadership philosophy. I was simply trying to build an organization. Every day presented another problem to solve, another relationship to develop, another opportunity to improve, and another decision that didn't come with an instruction manual. There wasn't time to wonder whether I was qualified. There was only time to keep moving.

So I did what I've always done when I find myself in unfamiliar territory. I trusted my instincts.

I asked questions that probably sounded naïve. I surrounded myself with people who knew more than I did. I tried ideas that had never been attempted before. Some worked brilliantly. Others failed spectacularly. I celebrated the wins, learned from the losses, empowered great people to do their jobs, and through it all, I made sure we never lost sight of having fun.

The interesting part is that none of it felt intentional.  I wasn't consciously following a leadership framework.

I was simply leading.

About three years later, after our organization had accomplished more than I ever imagined possible, my alma mater, Western Michigan University, invited me back to speak to one of their classes. I was honored until they told me what they wanted me to speak about.

"How did you do it?"  It was such a simple question.  And I had absolutely no answer.

I remember sitting alone at my desk staring at a blank yellow Post-it Note. I kept asking myself the same question. How did we accomplish so much in such a short period of time? We had broken records, challenged long-held assumptions, built incredible community relationships, and created momentum that no one, including me, could have predicted.

I didn't have a presentation.  I didn't have a framework.  I had a blank sticky note. So I started writing.

The first thing that came to mind was, "Go to the experts."

Then I wrote, "Innovate."

A few seconds later came, "Make mistakes."

Then, "Ask for forgiveness rather than permission."

"Macromanage."

"Have fun."

I looked down at that little yellow square of paper and realized I wasn't looking at six random ideas. I was looking at the decisions that had quietly guided almost everything I had done since arriving in hockey.

Today I know there's a name for that.

It's called unconscious competence.

Sometimes we're so busy doing the work that we don't recognize the patterns shaping our decisions until someone asks us to explain them.

Over the years, those six ideas became what I now call my Six Toni Truths. They eventually found their way into Rebellious Success, but they started in a hockey office with a yellow sticky note and a question I wasn't sure I could answer.

The first thing I had written was, "Go to the experts."

It still makes me smile because I knew so little about hockey that I had no choice. I couldn't fake my way through it. I couldn't pretend to understand decades of hockey tradition or operations that I'd never experienced. My only option was to ask questions. Lots of them.

At first, I worried that asking so many questions would make people question whether I belonged in the job. Instead, something entirely different happened. People wanted to help. Coaches taught me. Sales professionals shared ideas. League executives answered my calls. Owners who had been doing this for decades generously shared what had worked for them and, just as importantly, what hadn't.

That lesson has followed me everywhere. When I decided to stop drinking, I immersed myself in neuroscience and behavior change instead of relying on willpower. When I wrote Rebellious Success, I hired publishing experts because they knew things I didn't. Every time I launch a new project, interview a podcast guest, or coach a client, I'm reminded that success leaves clues. The fastest way to grow isn't pretending you know everything. It's finding the people who already know what you need to learn.

The second phrase on that sticky note was simply, "Innovate."

Ironically, not knowing hockey became one of my greatest strengths. I wasn't carrying around years of "this is how we've always done it." I wasn't trying to protect tradition. I was simply trying to create experiences that people would remember.

Innovation doesn't begin with a million-dollar idea. It begins with curiosity. It begins with asking, What if?

What if hockey could attract people who had never attended a game before? What if we created promotions that made people laugh? What if we celebrated our community in ways no one expected? Some of those ideas became huge successes. Others fell flat. But every time we were willing to challenge conventional thinking, we learned something valuable.

I still believe innovation is less about creativity and more about courage. Most people already have good ideas. They're just afraid to try them.

Of course, not every idea worked.

Which explains why the third truth became, "Make mistakes."

For much of my life, I treated mistakes like evidence that I wasn't good enough. I suspect many women can relate to that feeling. We convince ourselves that one wrong decision will somehow erase all the good ones. We wait until we're certain before acting, believing certainty is the price of leadership.

Hockey taught me something different.

When you're making hundreds of decisions every week, mistakes are inevitable. The question isn't whether you'll make them. The question is whether you'll learn from them.

Some of my greatest professional growth came immediately after things didn't go according to plan. Instead of asking, "Why did this happen to me?" I started asking, "What is this trying to teach me?" That simple shift transformed mistakes from something I feared into something I valued. Today, when I coach leaders, I rarely encourage them to avoid failure. I encourage them to become exceptional students of it.

The fourth truth usually gets the biggest reaction.

"Ask for forgiveness rather than permission."

People hear that phrase and assume I'm encouraging reckless behavior. I'm not. I'm encouraging courageous behavior.

There were countless moments throughout my career when I could have waited for someone else to tell me I was ready. I could have waited to launch a podcast until I understood podcasting. I could have waited to write a book until I felt like an author. I could have waited to apply for speaking opportunities until someone invited me.

I'd probably still be waiting.

Leadership requires thoughtful action, not perfect certainty. Sometimes you simply have to trust yourself enough to move. If you need to make adjustments later, you will. But waiting for unanimous approval often means watching great opportunities pass you by.

The fifth truth is the one people remember because they usually ask me if I made the word up.

I did.

"Macromanage."

We've all heard about the dangers of micromanagement, but very few people talk about what effective leadership actually looks like. To me, macromanaging means staying relentlessly focused on the vision while giving talented people the freedom to own the details.

Early in my career, I thought good leaders had to know everything that was happening. Today I believe the opposite. Great leaders create an environment where they don't have to be involved in every decision because they've built trust, communicated clear expectations, and empowered people to think for themselves.

That's how organizations grow.  If every answer has to come through me, then I'm not leading. I'm limiting.

And finally, there was the last phrase on that yellow sticky note.

"Have fun."

Some people are surprised this made the list. I'm not.

If you've ever attended a K-Wings game, you already know that fun has always been part of our culture. Some of our biggest ideas were born from laughter. Some of our strongest relationships developed because people genuinely enjoyed working together. Even during the hardest seasons, we've found ways to celebrate, connect, and remind ourselves why we do this work in the first place.

Leadership is hard. There are difficult conversations, financial pressures, disappointing losses, and days when nothing seems to go your way.

But somewhere along the line, too many leaders began believing that professionalism required seriousness.

I disagree.  Joy is not the opposite of hard work. It's the fuel that sustains it.

Looking back now, I smile when I think about that little yellow Post-it Note.

At the time, I thought I was preparing for a presentation at Western Michigan University. I had no idea I was uncovering the leadership philosophy that had quietly shaped my career.

Those six truths have guided me through becoming the first female General Manager in K-Wings history, quitting drinking, launching a globally ranked podcast, writing Rebellious Success, coaching remarkable clients, and standing on stages I once thought were reserved for someone else.

The older I get, the more convinced I become that leadership isn't about having all the answers. It's about having the courage to trust yourself, the humility to keep learning, and the willingness to define success on your own terms.

Those six ideas fit on a yellow Post-it Note.

Turns out, they've been big enough to build my life.

And my hope is that they'll help you build yours.