Who decided to make me a big dawg?

I was born to lead.

When my elementary school classmates called me bossy, I flipped it back on them:
"Well, if you don’t like what I’m telling you to do, then stop listening to me."

Needless to say, business continued as usual—for years.

FUTURISTIC is at the very top of my Clifton Strengths, meaning I naturally see the future in vivid detail. I can describe it so clearly that when I share my vision, I inspire people to believe in possibilities they never considered.

Simply put, I give people hope.

Or, better yet, I make them—and myself—believe in sometimes unrealistic expectations of what’s possible. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about leadership, it’s that most people don’t actually want to accomplish the things they say they want.

But for me, that’s never been an option.

That drive—unstoppable, relentless—is why people naturally look up to me. They want guidance, coaching, pep talks… even if not from me directly.

But that sh*t is draining.

Leadership requires patience, empathy, and—dare I say—hand-holding. And sometimes, I don’t have time for all that.

Sometimes, I just want people to get it. Look at what I’m doing, follow suit, and keep it moving. And if that’s not going to happen, let’s not even discuss it.

But here’s the hardest part: I don’t have a me for me.

There’s no one looking out for me, checking in, or making sure I have a guide. Yes, I could seek out mentors, ask for the cheat codes, figure out the hacks. But at 41, where do I even start?

So, like always, I’m learning on the job. It’s worked out well for the most part, but there are still areas where I know I need help.

• Financial planning? Could use some guidance.

• Softening up with my husband? Definitely.

• Navigating career politics? Someone, please, put me on game.

I’m grateful God blessed me with the gift of leadership—I wear it well. Even when I’m not technically in charge, I show up like I am. But I also know that leading doesn’t mean I have to be “on” 24/7.

I’ve learned to protect my peace. To carve out solo time, stay off the radar when necessary, and prioritize me. I’m also learning to speak up when I don’t have the bandwidth to lead. Because real leadership isn’t about carrying the weight alone—it’s also about knowing when to pass the baton.

And right now, I’m making more room for that, too.

At this stage in my life, I’m embracing leadership on my own terms—without the burnout, the overextension, or the expectation that I have to carry everything alone. I’m learning that putting me first isn’t selfish; it’s necessary. Because when I take care of myself—when I prioritize my peace, my needs, and my growth—I lead better, love better, and show up as my best self.

And if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s this: The best leaders don’t just guide others—they also know when to take a step back and pour into themselves.