In the spring of 2021, I flew to a mastermind event in the middle of nowhere Missouri. I didn’t know a single person, just saw an opportunity and said yes. Looking back, I realize I didn’t go to Missouri to find a mastermind. I went to find myself in a room of people who saw me.

A friend once joked, “I want to see your resume of actual things you’ve done.” It made me laugh at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized they were onto something. A polished LinkedIn profile only tells part of the story. The real picture of who we are often shows up in the scrappy, messy, and sometimes unexpected experiences that shape us along the way.

I don’t want my tombstone to read “She Worked.”

For nearly two decades, I was a workaholic. And I was damn good at it. I prided myself on being the first one in the office in the morning and the last one to leave at night. The first thing I did when I opened my eyes was check my email; the last thing I did before bed was the same.