​In my coaching work, even as I help others grow in the leadership development space, I often come back to a guiding principle: my work is ultimately about helping people be better humans—to themselves, to the people they’re in relationship with, to their communities, and to the world at large.
What I know about the human condition is that, as flawed as we all are, we need each other. Other people can mirror for us not only what is true about ourselves but also what we hope to make true. In any role or position we hold in life—whether it’s one we were given, one we earned, or one we chose—leadership isn’t simply about knowledge or technical skills. Rather, it’s about who we are as people, and how we treat others, especially when circumstances or other people challenge us.
This is why I emphasize the importance of internal work—working on who we are at our core, in the privacy of our own space and thoughts, when we’re alone with our emotions and honest with ourselves. That deep, private self—our true self—is what ultimately comes to the surface in our actions and choices, for better or worse. Our strengths, our insecurities, the parts we’d rather hide, even our fears—these will all come through. It’s that transparency, the good and the bad, that reveals who we are as leaders and as humans.
Reflecting on my journey, from my early work as a therapist to my coaching today, I see clearly that we are at risk of “losing” what makes us unique as humans. While technology and AI advance, there may come a time when machines are sentient enough to mimic human behaviors and responses. But true humanity is not only about “thinking” or mimicking; it’s about being. Our humanity is expressed in our ability to connect with, comfort, and encourage others, to hold space for one another in times of need. We are humans—physical, emotional, and spiritual beings. And despite our flaws, we offer each other something invaluable: belonging, connection, and a sense of not being alone in this world.
Ultimately, leadership—and life—is about being fully present as humans. The work of showing up for ourselves, for others, and for our communities may not always be easy, but it is essential. In a world where we can sometimes forget what makes us uniquely human, perhaps our greatest contribution is to remember and to live that humanity with intention.
 

​​​As far back as I can remember, I’ve been captivated by what drives people to feel, think, and behave the way they do. My curiosity runs deep in understanding that inner dialogue—the emotions, thoughts, and beliefs swirling within—and especially in discovering the influences that have shaped these mental models, sometimes empowering, sometimes limiting us. This curiosity about what makes people tick, what motivates or inspires them, has always guided me, but also what keeps us stuck, repeating the same patterns, cycling through the same choices that lead to the same disappointments. 

​Many of us, myself included, can feel caught in the loop of hoping for something different while acting in ways that keep producing the same results. So, what holds us back from breaking free of these cycles? I think of the times I’ve found myself returning to that familiar place, disappointed again, as I’d unconsciously chosen what was comfortable, predictable—yet ultimately unsatisfying. 

For many, it takes reaching a breaking point, that inflection point where the pain of staying the same outweighs the discomfort of change. It doesn’t have to be a dramatic event; it might be an accumulation of fatigue, frustration, or even an underlying impatience with the way things are. There comes a moment when the sense of feeling “stuck” becomes intolerable, and the discomfort of change finally feels worth it.
 
These are the many reasons I was a therapist and now am a coach in the leadership development space.  The fascination with helping people develop, grow, and mature have captivated me for many decades. Humans are multi-layered, complex, and also at the same time basic beings. Both as a therapist and coach, I observe these essential truths about our humanness:

1. Humans are fundamentally relational beings. It’s within healthy relationships that we can grow and evolve into our fullest selves, reaching our potential. We’re wired for connection, and we need safe, supportive relationships to move us toward change. Relationships are mirror to us of when we are our best selves and when we’re not.
2. We are complex, multidimensional beings. We are physical, emotional, mental, and even spiritual creatures, and it’s not an either/or proposition. The tension of “both/and” is something we struggle to hold. We crave simplicity, so we lean toward polarities—only joy, only sorrow, only positivity, or only negativity. But in denying this complexity, we often block parts of ourselves and limit our potential for healing and growth.
3. We each carry the potential to be both hero and villain. We all have within us the capacity for kindness and cruelty, bravery and cowardice. And yet, this potential can be stunted if we fail to hold the whole picture, both light and shadow, in ourselves and in others. Our inability to accept both aspects limits our growth, as does our reluctance to see others’ potential for change.

 
The paradoxes of human nature are intricate and often uncomfortable. But if we’re willing to explore them and understand what truly makes us tick, we open the possibility of new patterns, of moving forward with greater clarity and freedom. Embracing both our light and our dark, our capacity to grow and to falter, allows us to break out of the cycles that hold us back and step fully into the life we want to live.

In August, my husband and I officially became empty nesters as we moved our youngest daughter into her dorm for her freshman year of college. Like many other parents, we experienced a gamut of emotions. There was immense pride and joy in seeing our child, through her hard work and determination, achieve her goal of attending college. She is stepping into her independence and embracing the journey into adulthood.
Now, she must navigate her daily life, manage her time and finances, and make her own decisions. It’s bittersweet, shifting of our role as parents, to that of advisor and mentor. As we watch from a distance, we feel both trepidation and excitement. We are passing the reins of life to our daughter, allowing her to experience life on her own terms. We know she will face challenges and celebrate successes that she creates for herself.
 
Alongside these complex emotions, we faced another layer to navigate. This wasn't our first time passing the reins to our youngest. About 18 months prior, my husband and my parenting journey abruptly ended. She no longer wanted to be parented by us. She wanted her independence and wanted to make her own decisions, even though we felt she wasn’t ready for that responsibility. In essence, she declared her emancipation from us.
It was one of the many difficult decisions we have had to face in parenting her. After years of seeking resources to improve our relationship with her, things had escalated to her engaging in risky behaviors that jeopardized her well-being and affected those around her. Watching her make continual choices that put herself at risk was heartbreaking. The sadness, anger, resentment, fear, and hopelessness that my husband and I felt were indescribable.
When a parent reaches the point of discussing whether it's in the best interest of the family for their teenager to continue living at home, the situation has hit an impasse. It’s hard to articulate the emotions that arise when your child decides to reject the parenting and values you’ve instilled in them. As a mother, particularly as an adoptive parent, I grappled with deep feelings of guilt. I questioned myself constantly, wondering what I might have done wrong, what I could have done differently, and ultimately, how I could have been a better parent.
I felt a profound sense of grief and loss, knowing I hadn’t fulfilled my role as her mom in the ways I had envisioned. The lack of closure in our relationship weighed heavily on me.

In my last post, I wrote: “Navigating change—whether imposed upon us or self-chosen—requires a willingness to confront our emotions, release our attachments, and embrace the unknown. By giving ourselves space, patience, and self-compassion to identify the challenges we face and seeking ways to overcome them, we can transform our experiences into opportunities for growth and insight.”
This impasse in our relationship with our youngest was not how we imagined our parenting journey ending. Reconciling our expectations of parenthood with the reality of our situation has been difficult. Parenthood presents abundant opportunities to wrestle with what is truly within our control and what is not. Then when you consider how that might be impact the self-agency of your minor child, this creates a precarious emotional state filled with self-doubt and second-guessing, wondering if you are making the right decision.

​No one—experts included—can help you make those decisions. Ultimately, we must live with the decisions we make and their impact on everyone involved. Out of necessity for my own mental and emotional well-being, I adopted a daily practice of “radical acceptance.” This concept, rooted in Buddhism, involves recognizing and accepting my current feelings without judgment or evaluation, and letting go of the desire for things to be different.
As Marsha Linehan, the psychologist and creator of Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT), explains, radical acceptance does not mean lacking feelings or resigning oneself to a situation. Instead, it involves accepting reality as it is, understanding that the events causing pain have a cause, and recognizing that life can still be lived even amidst painful experiences.
 
It’s a daily practice to consider how I want to show up for myself, my daughter, and the rest of my family. At times, I felt trapped, believing there were countless reasons to feel that my sense of self-agency was dependent upon someone else’s choices. Yet, I still constantly remind myself that while I can’t control others or their decisions, I do have the power to choose who I want to be and how I will respond. Even amid challenging circumstances, I oversee my own destiny and the integrity of the person I aspire to be. Some days, it’s easier to embody this belief than others. I’m a work in progress.