A CEO once asked me a question that changed how I think about my career.
I was an independent consultant, wrapping up an especially brutal transformation for a U.S. client—one that left me questioning whether I even wanted to keep doing this kind of work.
On our call, she laid out her challenges:
✅ A transformation program stuck in contract negotiations
✅ Internal teams with limited experience delivering large-scale change
✅ A board losing patience with every passing week
We both knew the truth: transformation is messy, political, and unforgiving.
Despite my exhaustion and craving a break, something about the challenge sparked energy I didn’t realize I still had.
I said yes to starting in two weeks.
Then came her follow-up question—the one that has echoed through eight transformations since:
“Why do you choose to lead transformations when the personal sacrifice is so high?”
She wasn’t wrong about the cost:
• Time away, stolen from my young kids
• Seven-day workweeks that blur into months
• Stepping straight into turmoil—14-hour days, warring teams, and tense boardrooms
So why keep doing it?
My answer was spontaneous: “𝗕𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗜 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗜 𝗮𝗺 𝗯𝘆 𝗱𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. And maybe that’s where we all find our real purpose.”
Nine Transformations Later… Here’s What I’m Still Learning
You don’t master transformation by perfecting PowerPoint decks.
You master it:
• Like a sculptor — by chipping away at resistance until something beautiful emerges
• Like a surgeon — through thousands of precise cuts under pressure
• Like any craftsperson — by embracing struggle as your teacher, with practice, patience, and purpose
Here’s the formula I’ve practiced: 𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁 + 𝗣𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 + 𝗥𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 = 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘆
The sign you’re on the right path isn’t when the work feels easy. It’s when the struggle itself becomes meaningful.
When your hardest days teach you the most. When failure stops being a fear—and becomes your greatest teacher.
Because leadership isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about walking confidently into the unknown—and finding a way forward for everyone counting on you.
Mastery isn’t about talking the talk. It requires walking the walk.
💡 Which hard road have you walked—and would you choose it again?
