What My Hardest Year Taught Me About Leadership & Growth

I just celebrated my birthday, which always puts me in a reflective mood. This past year has been, without question, one of the hardest seasons of my life — and also one of the most transformative. As someone who spends my days helping managers grow into better leaders, I've come to believe that the lessons that shape us most rarely show up in the ways we would expect. They show up in the messy, uncomfortable, real parts of life. Here's what this season taught me — and why I think every manager needs to hear it too.

Being a beginner again is humbling — but it's also what makes you a better leader.

This year, I found myself learning things that most people pick up growing up. Being the beginner in a room full of experts is embarrassing. It's humbling. It's just plain hard. The old me would have declined the invitation to try, terrified of looking bad or falling short.

But here's what I realized: the managers I admire most, the ones who lead with humility and genuine curiosity, are the ones who are still willing to be beginners at something. If you never let yourself feel incompetent, you never actually grow — and neither does your team, because they're watching how you handle not knowing.

Sitting in discomfort is the key to living the life you actually want.

This might be the biggest understatement of the year. I've lived through hard seasons before, but this one took the cake. When I look back at every meaningful shift in my work and relationships, the pattern is the same: the discomfort was never the obstacle. It was the path. Every time I let myself sit in it instead of avoiding it, it led me exactly where I wanted to be.

This is true in leadership too. The hard feedback conversation, the tough call you don't want to make, the uncertainty of a big decision — none of it feels good in the moment. But avoiding it doesn't make you a safer leader. It makes you a stuck one.

Life can be incredibly painful and incredibly beautiful at the same time — and that's confusing, not contradictory.

This year, I said goodbye to people I thought would be lifelong friends. I dealt with medical scares, financial stress, and real career confusion. And in that same stretch of time, I also went on some of the most amazing adventures of my life, saw more of the world, deepened friendships that matter, and found new ways to give back to my community that felt genuinely meaningful.

Holding both of those truths at once is disorienting. But it's also just... true. Growth doesn't wait for the hard stuff to clear out first. It happens right alongside it.

The better you get at using your voice, the faster everything else falls into place.

The more comfortable I got having hard conversations and doing hard things, the faster I found myself with the relationships I actually wanted, a career that didn't require sacrificing my wellbeing, and a lifestyle that felt alive instead of just fine. Your voice is a leadership skill long before it's a personal one — and the more you avoid using it, the longer you stay stuck exactly where you are.

What I Actually Did to Build a Bigger, More Beautiful Life

Lessons are one thing, but action is another. Here's what I actually changed this year:

I got intentional about the relationships I invested in. That meant taking some friendships slowly and no longer saying yes to every single invitation just because I felt like I should.

I chased opportunities I was already drawn to — instead of the "correct" ones. Rather than defaulting to classic networking events or generic volunteer work, I leaned into things I was genuinely already interested in: organizations supporting mental health, events that uplift women in business, and yes, even my obsessive coffee habit.

I stopped waiting for things to exist and started building them myself. I created a networking event around golf, because that's what I actually love. I built digital products I wish had existed back when I was deep in my own manager struggles. I invited friends to the parties and gatherings I'd always wanted to go to but could never quite find my way into.

I had the difficult conversations I used to avoid. I used to stay quiet out of fear of losing the friendship altogether. This year, I chose to be intentional with my words, to come from a place of care, and to leave the door open for real dialogue. I still lost a friendship this year. But I felt good knowing I did everything I could — and said everything I needed to say. Somehow, that made the loss feel lighter than it would have otherwise.

The Takeaway for Managers

If there's one thing I'd want every manager reading this to sit with, it's this: growth doesn't happen in the comfortable parts. It happens when you're willing to be a beginner, willing to have the hard conversation, and willing to build the thing you wish existed instead of waiting for someone else to do it.

That's true for your life. It's true for your team. And it's true for the kind of leader you're becoming, one uncomfortable season at a time.

And remember, seasons change.