Last month, I had the honor of winning the Titan 100 award for the second year in a row.
My mother and godmother flew in to celebrate. My daughters and their best friend came. My bestie and my love were there. I was surrounded by joy, pride, and a whole lot of love.
In a room full of other C-Suite leaders, many of whom know the real cost of leadership, I felt humbled. Because it’s not just vision and drive that get you here. It’s the long nights, the constant risk assessment, the back-and-forth between confidence and self-doubt, and several more gray hairs.
Though I don’t do this work for the awards, it does feel good to be seen 
What struck me most that night wasn’t the recognition. It was the difference in how I felt, not about the award, but about myself.
Last year, I walked into the ceremony in awe. I felt nervous and quietly questioned whether I belonged. This year, I felt rooted, at ease, and clear that I was meant to be in that room.
That shift didn’t come from time alone. It came from integrating what I’ve been learning through honest reflection and feedback from trusted advisors, my team, clients, and my own internal voice. Feedback that helped me separate what I hoped was true from what actually was, and then take action from that reality.
That kind of feedback is not always easy to hear. But it’s what helps us learn, change, and grow. Not just as leaders, but as people.
Growth is relational. It happens in conversation with ourselves, and with each other. And yet so many of us struggle to give feedback well or to receive it without defensiveness.