If you’re new to my writing style, welcome. Just know this. I don’t write about things I’ve mastered. I write about things I’m still working on…
…This is one of those.
If you knew me in my twenties, you’d know I had no problem cutting people off. No hesitation. Once I let you in, I was all in. But if I felt done, I was done. Even when it hurt.
And it did hurt. Losing a friendship you actually care about is one of the worst feelings there is. I just got really good at convincing myself I was okay with it.
Early in my career, when I went through layoffs or setbacks, I got really good at creating stories in my head to push myself. The Michael Jordan “and I took it personal” meme? That was me.
I turned everything into “me vs. them.” I convinced myself certain people didn’t believe in me, even if they had nothing to do with it. I needed that edge. It gave me something to chase and someone to prove wrong.
It wasn’t really about them.
It was about me.
Something has shifted over the last few years. I have nothing to prove anymore other than to care for the teams I have the privilege of leading.
Recently, I ran into a former boss at a Thunder game—someone I had mentally put on my imaginary hit list because she was my boss at my first job out of college when I got laid off after three years.
I walked up, gave her a hug, and we started talking like nothing had ever happened. No awkwardness. No tension. Just normal.
That told me everything I needed to know.
The story I had created about us not being on good terms? That was all me. And if I’m being honest, I knew it. But in my mind, I needed to “win” first. I needed to feel like I proved something before I could come back around.
I never needed to prove anything.
Did that mindset push me? Sure.
But was the whole thing one-sided?
Absolutely.
She said, “I’m so proud of you. I’ve loved watching you grow on LinkedIn. I always knew you would. I’m like a proud mom.”
I had convinced myself she didn’t want to see me win. But the truth is, most people aren’t rooting against you. They’re rooting for you. And even if they’re not, it’s hard to hate on someone who’s put in the work.
That whole “I’ll prove them wrong” mindset can help. It will push you. It might even help you succeed.
But it’s not always real.
That hit me again recently after a tough week at work. Even in the middle of it, I caught myself thinking, as hard as this is, I still wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
And the reason is simple. It’s the people.
It’s always been about people for me, which is kind of ironic considering how easy it used to be for me to cut people off. But the energy, the mission, the shared purpose… that’s what drives me. That’s what makes the hard days worth it.
That reflection made me think about someone I used to work with. Someone I genuinely loved working with, even though we didn’t always show it that way.
We challenged each other constantly. We argued, debated, pushed back. Sometimes loudly. But it was always rooted in passion. We both cared about the work and about the organization. Same personality, just different approaches.
Let’s be real. We had full-on yelling matches. The kind no one ever knew about, because we were smart enough not to do that in front of other leaders.
Two strong personalities who didn’t shy away from conflict. You can imagine how that went.
And then one day, she was gone.
Three years ago, I came back from vacation and she didn’t work here anymore. No real goodbye. At the time, it didn’t feel right to reach out because I didn’t know the circumstances surrounding the departure, so I didn’t. I stayed in my lane.
Then a year passed. Then two. Then three.
In my head, I told myself she probably hated me for never reaching out.
But the truth is, I never had any negative feelings toward her. If anything, she made me a better leader. She challenged me. She helped me see a different perspective. She didn’t ask me to “stay in my lane.” I appreciated that. We were both leaders with a heavy burden.
After that tough week, I felt this pull to reach out. Nothing big. Just a simple text. I needed to remind myself that people still matter.
“Hey, I hope you’re doing well. I hope your kids are doing great. Thought about you at work today.”
No expectations. I didn’t even know if she would respond. That wasn’t the point. I just wanted to get the weight of not reaching out off my shoulders.
A few hours later, she responded.
“Gah… it only took you 3 years 😂 jk jk. Thank you for reaching out. It means more than you know.”
That was it. That was all I needed.
We build up stories in our heads. We assume people are mad. Holding grudges. Thinking about us way more than they actually are.
Meanwhile, they’re just living their lives.
And sometimes, they’re hoping you’ll reach out.
At 38, I’m learning this. Some bridges are meant to burn. But some aren’t actually burned. They just feel that way because of the story you created.
And sometimes, you’re the only one holding onto it.
There are definitely relationships I’ve walked away from that I have no interest in revisiting.
But there are others that didn’t need to end the way they did.
Those are the ones I’m working on.
Sometimes it’s not a big conversation. It’s not a long apology.
Sometimes it’s just sending the text.
Just hit send.