When the person you're pretending to be gets too heavy to carry, you realize that the mask you've worn for so long has become your actual face.
The only thing worse than making a mistake is keeping it bottled up inside. Learning from the mistakes of others could help you embark on the healing journey of sharing and working through a mistake of your own, with someone you trust.
For forty years, I knew exactly what I was doing. Check the schedule. Load the van. Drive to the job. Solve problems. Go home tired but satisfied. Now I had nothing to check, nothing to load, nowhere to go.
When the CEO held a virtual town hall in 2020 and said there needed to be layoffs, I knew I would be one of the first to go because I served zero purpose at that point.
As an Asian-American kid growing up to an immigrant mom in North Carolina, I was taught to follow the rules (no exceptions). I was a Boy Scout, graduated top of my class and was hired by Goldman Sachs immediately after graduating undergrad. I had followed what I thought was the "right" path. I was living in the greatest city in the world (New York City, of course) and working at one of the best companies in the world ... but none of it felt right.
After relocating back to my home in the Midlands, I find clients are reluctant to look further afield than their back gardens. As a working-class creative, I understand that regional pride is something to be celebrated, but navel-gazing only contributes to the brain drain down the M1. When working with cultural clients, if I make reference to things from London or abroad, it's met with defensive disdain.
I've spent my career straddling the structured discipline of Fortune 500 companies and the entrepreneurial scrappiness of startups. Each side has its strengths. Startups move fast, fueled by creativity and urgency. Corporations scale big, built on systems and predictability. But the future of leadership belongs to those who can bridge the two; leaders who think like founders and lead like CEOs.
