On becoming someone new

I used to think growth was mostly about learning.

Learn the technology. Learn the business, the market, the job. Work hard, stay curious, earn the next raise and title.

That’s one version of growth. But it’s incomplete.

The harder part of growth is adaptation. It’s becoming the kind of person who can keep changing without losing herself.

I’ve been a consultant, a CIO, a sales exec, and a CEO. The progression makes sense on a resume. Very LinkedIn friendly.

But I didn’t always make those transitions gracefully. In some roles, I relied too long on the instincts that had made me successful in the last one. I sometimes oriented the team around knowing instead of learning. More than once, I got caught speeding.

Every new chapter required a different version of me.

As a consultant, I was rewarded for structured thinking and client impact. Ask the questions. Pinpoint the problem. Find the answer.

As a CIO, being right wasn’t enough. I had to learn how systems, budgets, politics, and risk all moved together. I had to bring people with me.

As a technology sales exec, there was no hiding behind a good idea. Customers had to buy it. Teams had to deliver it. I had to put dollars on the scoreboard.

As a public company CEO, I’ve had to lead with compassion and conviction, make painful decisions before the data feels complete, and help the company adapt as we rewrite our playbook in real time.

Each transition taught me something. Each one also forced me to make room for a different way of leading.

That’s the part we don’t say aloud. Growth requires loosening our grip on the habits that once made us effective. You have to stop proving you can still do the old job, and start figuring out what the new one asks of you.

I’ve found three things that can help make room for new habits and skills.

It's not enough to learn a new skill. Some reflexes that made you successful in one chapter actually limit you in the next one.

Realizing and accepting that takes self-awareness and humility. Expertise says, “I’ve seen this before.” Adaptability asks, “What about this moment is different?”

Organizations need to stop rewarding certainty when curiosity would serve them better. Humility isn’t weakness. It’s the discipline of staying teachable after you’ve had success.

Losing a job I loved showed me how much of my identity I had assigned to what I did for a living. Suddenly, I was untitled, unpaid, unworked.

Unrooted.

I didn’t have the familiar markers that told me who I was. Or, at least who I thought I was.

Thinking about it still hurts.

But it also forced me to discover how much more there was to me than my job. And once I understood that, changing what I did no longer meant losing who I was.