I am not the “natural” leader type.
I get distracted. My follow-up lives in the land of good intentions. I feel things deeply — the kind of deeply where I’ve absolutely cried over a slide deck. Literally last week.
But this year, I picked up Inspire Greatness by
matt tenney
and made a quiet decision: if I’m going to lead, I’m going to lead on purpose. I didn’t implement every suggestion; however the practice has made a difference
Here’s what changed.
1. I rewrote my primary job.
Every morning, my calendar reminds me:
My primary job is to inspire greatness in my team by serving as a coach who consistently helps people to be happy, great human beings, who do great work.
Not “ship faster.” Not “hit metrics.” Not “clear inbox.”
Some days, that looks like asking a better question. Some days it’s choosing patience over performance. Some days, it’s simply noticing someone who feels unseen.
No, I don’t nail it daily. But I pause daily — and that pause has changed the temperature of the team.
2. I started preparing, like it matters. (Because it does.)
One-on-ones used to be squeezed between meetings. Now? I prepare.
I look at goals. I reread notes. I write down what I want to ask.
The impact? Meetings are tighter. Feedback is real-time and useful. We talk about what actually needs to move.
Preparation sounds simple. It’s not glamorous. But a prepared leader is a calm leader.
3. I weaponized gratitude. (In the healthiest way.)
I made it a practice to notice when someone does something right — sometimes the small things, sometimes the bigger things, but often the quiet things no one else saw.
I send the note. I call it out. I say thank you.
But here’s what I didn’t expect: it softened my own negative self-talk. When I focus on what’s working, my brain stops rehearsing what’s broken.
The gratitude can’t be fluffy. It has to be directional, intentional, and specific. Real recognition lands differently than generic praise.
4. I got louder about what we’re doing and why.
Transparency became a rhythm — for each other, and for the organization.
We share what we’re working on, why it matters, and how it connects to our goals.
The result? Better direction. More collaboration. More ownership. Less confusion.
People can’t align with a strategy they don’t understand. So I stopped assuming they knew and started making it visible.
5. I started asking better questions.
I’m a control freak. Every person on my team will tell you that. I want to control the outcomes and that has set me up for failure when the delivery doesn’t live up to expectations.
But instead of presenting fully baked ideas, I’ve been trying to ask these three questions:
- What would you do?
- Where are we missing it?
- How could this be better?
We did this during 2026 planning, and something shifted. The team started to see their DNA in the strategy. They own parts of it now — not just executing, but defending it.
6. I learned to invite growth conversations.
Mid-year 2025 feedback hit me hard. One team member shared they felt isolated and underutilized — disconnected from their strengths and from the team.
This stung. Because I’ve been that person, and I missed it.
Wake-up call.
Over the next few quarters, we aligned projects to their strengths. Pulled them into higher-impact work. Kept them in the loop a little tighter.
This year, they’re leading a vital initiative for our organization and our customers. They’re more engaged. And their honesty taught me something I should have known: growth isn’t accidental. It’s intentional. And it requires attention.
7. I made our meaning visible.
We wrote our top priorities. We agreed on them. We revisit them.
I got better at sending meeting recaps quickly, including assignments and what’s top of mind. At the end of every week, a recap with a note of appreciation. And every update ties back to something bigger.
I learned to trust that my people can handle hard work. What was missing was the tie-back to purpose. That meaning has fueled team resilience.
So what have I learned?
Leadership isn’t about being the most polished person in the room.
It’s about creating conditions where other people become their best.
We added structure without discarding emotion. We sought clarity while practicing softness and care. We held ourselves to standards we’re proud of.
And maybe the most surprising part?
In trying to inspire greatness in my team, I’ve become a little braver myself, doing some of the hardest things I’ve ever been asked to do.
But deep down, I know my leader trusts me to handle it. And that trust? It changes everything.