Leading from the Sidelines

When I recently put my founder’s video out into the world, there were a few people I hoped would see it—and see how far I’ve come. People who “knew me when,” and would recognize how happy I am in my life, running this business and building this community.

Then I got an Instagram message.

Enter my friend Mark.

“Love this.”

He was one of the people I’d hoped would see my video, so I told him that.

His reply: “I loved it! I like to think this all started when you were saving my a** (organizing, getting things done, etc.)… ohhh, about 10th grade.”

I cried.

Mark was class president for all the years I was class secretary. He wrote funny skits for pep rallies, threw amazing Halloween parties at his parents’ house (hayrides in their field and scary movies), and was always going from class to class with loose homework papers, a story in hand, and a pencil that was about 1.5 inches long. He was also always pushing riiight up against any student government deadline we had.

Here we are on stage for something—I think this photo sums up both of us in high school.

Enter adulthood.

Mark is an accomplished author who has published nine books, and I am so damn proud of him. I get all choked up thinking about the life he and his wife, Denise (who also went to our high school), have built together. And Mark’s books? They’re like flashbacks. I see a little of him, and a little of the people we grew up with, in every one of them.

The congratulations I got from Mark was validation I didn’t know I needed—just like my founder’s story wasn’t one I realized I needed to tell.

We’ve both grown into the people we were always meant to be.

The real truth is: Mark (and Denise!) knew and saw me before I did. And I am forever grateful—then and now.

And here’s what I’m realizing: Executive assistants spend our entire careers making sure other people shine. (I was just talking about this on LinkedIn last week—how we get front-row seats to watch our execs crush it.) We organize the chaos. We save the day. We make everyone else look good.

And somewhere along the way, we forget that we’re not just supporting characters in someone else’s story.

We have our own damn stories. Our own wins. Our own moments that deserve to be celebrated.

So here’s my question for you: Who knew you before you did? And what have you been doing all along that you’ve convinced yourself is “just your job”—when really, it’s your superpower?

Update: I sent this to Mark before posting. His response? He remembers me cleaning out his ‘pigpen of a desk’ in 3rd grade. THIRD GRADE, you guys. Sometimes who we are shows up way earlier than we realize.