
Anyone who knows me personally won’t be shocked by this piece of news:
I don’t have it all figured out.
Despite being nicknamed “Brother Teresa”, despite hosting a podcast called The Kindness Extremist, and despite literally writing the book on Making Work Work... I still struggle quite a bit when it comes to living up to the ideal of kindness that I’ve set for myself.
Some days, I lose my patience with my teenage daughters.
Some days, I’m short with my wife when I’m stressed.
Some days, I have to hold my tongue (or, more accurately, my fingers) to keep from typing a clever clapback to the irritating social media trolls who faithfully slither into my DMs.
Some days, I look at what’s happening in the world and lose faith in the goodness of humanity.
For the longest time, I thought admitting this would disqualify me from doing this work. I thought I needed to be the perfect example of positivity and kindness before I could help others.
Then I realized something powerful:
My struggles don’t disqualify me from this work—they qualify me for it.
The most effective leaders I know aren’t the ones pretending to be perfect.
They’re the ones brave enough to be real about their imperfections while still staying committed to growing through them. (You might want to read that sentence again).
Here’s what I’ve learned about leadership in my old age:
👉🏾 It’s okay to be sad, angry or scared
👉🏾 It’s okay to admit that you’re struggling
👉🏾 It’s okay to say you’re sorry when you mess up
👉🏾 It’s okay to admit you don’t have all the answers
Vulnerability doesn’t make you appear weak. Real strength comes from facing your struggles and choosing to show up anyway. It shows others that they’re not struggling alone, and that it’s possible to keep fighting while still being human.
If you’re waiting until you’re perfect to start making a positive difference in your workplace, your family, or your community, you’ll be waiting forever.
The world doesn’t need your perfection. It needs your courage. It needs people willing to show up imperfectly, but consistently.
Your imperfections don’t disqualify you from making a difference—they make you relatable enough to actually create meaningful change.
And that’s exactly what the world needs right now ❤️.