My front yard is showing off right now. Azaleas in full bloom. Loud. Unapologetic. Impossible to ignore. Every morning I walk outside and think, how in the hell did I get lucky enough to live here? But I’m also aware…this didn’t just happen. Someone planted these decades ago. Someone watered them when they were fragile. Someone got on their hands and knees and pulled weeds when it wasn’t pretty yet—when it didn’t look like much of anything. Long before I ever got here, someone decided this would become something beautiful. Now I get to live in the result of that kind of care. Yesterday, I sat in a room with a group of women I deeply respect. Smart. Capable. Doing work that actually matters. The founder was having a hard day. She’d gotten feedback—harsh, misinformed, maybe not even true—and you could feel it sitting on her. Not because she’s not strong. Not because she’s not clear. But because when you’re building something meaningful—especially something that hasn’t been done before—the noise gets loud. Criticism. Misunderstanding. Loud opinions from people who don’t have context or the back story. And here’s the part nobody tells you: that criticism and misunderstanding is normally proof that you’re onto something BIG. But if you let it it will send you into a spin out of overwhelm. And if you start reacting while you are in a state of overwhelm… while you’re pissed or defensive or shaken by the criticism, chances are you’ll be mad at yourself later Because we aren’t thinking clearly when we are experiencing big emotions. The overwhelmed version of ourselves shouldn’t run our life, ever. You tighten instead of trust. You focus on things you don’t want to grow. I told her something I’ve had to learn the hard way: You’re watering weeds. You’re giving your resources: attention, focus, words to the things you don’t want to grow. And the problem is—not all weeds look like weeds at first. Some look like urgency. Some look like responsibility. Some look like you wanting to justify your position to the people who misunderstand your intentions. So you start watering weeds instead of watering the seeds of impact you’ve planted. The weeds are distractions from your purpose. Because when you’re in the middle of building something big, you can’t always see clearly what’s a weed and what will be a flower. That’s why you need people. People who will hold up a mirror and say, hey—this right here? this isn’t where your energy goes. They can protect you from the things that feel overwhelming and distract you from the best next step. Your energy is the water. Your attention is the water. Your time is the water. Your voice, your strategy, your resources—that’s all water. And whatever you water will grow. The weeds will always grow faster. More urgent. More everywhere than they actually are. That’s how we’re wired. Our brains are trained to fix what’s wrong before we nurture what’s right. But if you don’t interrupt that pattern, you will spend your life growing things you never wanted. In that room, something shifted. You could feel it. Not because the problems or distractions disappeared. But because she realized she’d been pouring into the wrong places. Not out of failure—out of fatigue. And clarity doesn’t come from pushing harder. It comes from stepping back long enough to gain clarity. So maybe the most strategic thing you can do right now isn’t do more. It’s pause. It’s create space. It’s ask yourself, honestly— what am I watering? Because you don’t get both. You don’t get to water the weeds and expect a flower garden. And the truth is, most of us aren’t stuck because we’re incapable. We’re stuck because we’re exhausted from growing the wrong things.
Just as the pandemic had us taking to our individual home offices—which for many of us meant kitchen tables or coffee tables—our office implemented two meetings per week. Attendance was ALWAYS required unless they were dead or on vacation. Dramatic? Maybe. But keeping a team together when we were all navigating the unknown of a pandemic—and on some level worrying about making it as a company—well, it felt like the right requirement. More than two years later, we are still having two meetings per week—both still with required attendance (unless of course you are dead or on vacation). The kick off meeting always happens on Monday morning. The purpose of this meeting is strategy—we are diving into what we finished lined last week, and what is on deck for this week. It ranges from 60-90 minutes, but normally runs just around one hour. Our internal traffic manager runs this meeting, and we prioritize based on biggest projects due that week. On Fridays though, things look different. We have a morning meeting that is just about checking in. Typically we watch a TED Talk during the week, and we discuss what we learned from it or how it challenged us—but then each teammate checks in. The epiphany I had during the pandemic was what my team REALLY needed from me: consistency. As an entrepreneur who has had to grow and earn the title CEO, consistency is not natural. I have made it a habit over the last several years to hire incredible humans that are all leaders. I know how rare it is to have a team full of people who are self-motivated, solution-oriented, make-it-happen humans. I know it’s rare because I’ve worked on many teams where that wasn’t the case. Truly, I think this exact team has grown into those characteristics because they feel so supported. Interdependent, and yet autonomous. Launching two meetings each week is something I think we will do forever. And listen—I’m the CEO that HATES meetings about meetings, or meetings that totally could have been a text—but these meetings are purposeful and create incredible momentum and impact. Today I wanted to focus on our Friday meeting, which is all about CULTURE. And if you are a leader, you already know this—culture is in the top three currencies your employees or future employees are using to measure whether they want to work with you or continue working for you. As leaders who are leading other leaders who are leading teams of people vital to our organization, we need to be fluent in what creates a culture worth staying in for the long haul. Here are the two most powerful culture building questions leaders can ask their teams: 1. What did you/your team accomplish that is worth celebrating? Encouraging our teams to see even the smallest victories is so important. If we don’t count the small wins, we could end up missing the really big ones too. By asking this question consistently, your employees will know it’s coming—and they will want to have something to share WORTH celebrating. I love this question because it forces all of us to focus on what went well, what problems we actually solved, and how even a small thing moved the needle. When we focus on these positive wins, we are reenforcing a culture of not just seeing it in yourself or your team, but in one another. As a CEO, it is incredible insight hearing how my leadership team spent their week by how they articulate their wins. 2. Who on our team is your hero this week, and why? Who is the Most Valuable Player to you and why? I cannot tell you how this has enriched our company culture. They know this question is coming every week, and it never gets old. Because it is NORMAL in our company to brag on a teammate for kicking butt, pitching in, hitting tight deadlines, and a myriad of other things. When your team becomes accustomed to finding the gold in the people they work with and calling it out, MAGIC HAPPENS. I can’t give you a real statistic on what percentage of change you will have if you consistently, weekly, ask these two powerful questions, but I promise it’s significant. The hardest part will be making space for a meeting dedicated just to connection. The second hardest part will be YOU, the leader, showing up, leading the charge, and participating. Challenge yourself to try it for a month, and then email me and let me know how it goes! I would love to hear from you!
Crafting and steering teams that drive revenue, or what many millennials and Gen Zers refer to as “salespeople” as if it were a term to be avoided at all costs, certainly isn’t a walk in the park, is it? My own journey spans over 17 years in the field, and I’ve found that with each passing day, the layers of complexity and nuance only deepen. In my early days as an eager salesperson, my eyes were firmly set on smashing sales targets. Yet, I was fortunate to grow within nurturing environments, under the guidance of leaders who genuinely cared. Remarkably, during my initial, formative years in the sales arena—as a driven, single mother striving in the sales profession—I had the privilege of working under two exceptional mentors. My role in a fire restoration company, which inherently demanded empathy, played a crucial role in shaping my approach. There, my duties extended beyond traditional sales; I often found myself switching from flashy stilettos to fire boots, offering a shoulder on some of the darkest days of our clients’ lives—their homes had been engulfed in flames. Balancing the drive to secure sales with profound empathy for the homeowners’ plight, I believe, was key to my rapid ascent to becoming the top salesperson across seven countries within a year. I entered the job confident in my sales abilities, yet the position challenged me to elevate the clients’ needs above my own ambitions. This philosophy of prioritizing the prospective client’s well-being over mere deal-closing has guided my approach for over 16 years and is something I endeavor to pass on to every naturally gifted salesperson I encounter. Since 2009, I’ve had the opportunity to train and lead over fifty sales professionals, work with diverse teams, and offer consultancy to organizations valued between $50 million to $1 billion, focusing on refining their sales processes and enhancing client experiences. Despite the variances in organizational needs and team dynamics, the core ‘WHY’ driving the most successful sales teams remains constant. Here are the key principles, in order of importance: Belief in the mission. Top salespeople are true believers in the solutions their companies offer, recognizing the meaningful impact of their work. This conviction in the company’s vision and its value proposition is a common trait among high achievers. Precise audience targeting. Successful salespeople thrive when they know exactly whom they’re selling to, making it easier to identify and connect with key prospects and influencers. Confidence in delivery. Elite sales professionals trust that what they sell will be delivered with excellence, reinforcing their confidence in the promises they make, which in turn, boosts their sales performance. Collaborative mindset. The best salespeople are proactive in seeking improvements, drawing on frontline insights to suggest enhancements in partnership with their leaders, fostering a culture of innovation and collaboration. Understanding urgency. Exceptional sales talent knows how to close deals by genuinely conveying the necessity of immediate action, a skill that significantly shortens the sales cycle. If you’re encountering obstacles with your sales team, it might be time to reassess these foundational aspects: Do your products and services inspire belief? Is your target audience clearly defined for your team, including key contacts and entry points? Does your team have unwavering confidence in your company’s ability to deliver with excellence? Is there a culture of collaboration encouraged by sales leadership? Does your team grasp how to create genuine urgency in closing sales? Navigating the complexities of leading high-performing sales teams is undeniably challenging, with no shortcuts to exceptional leadership. However, revisiting these fundamental principles can provide invaluable insights. For those seeking further guidance, the Good Grit Agency offers workshops that might serve as an excellent starting point, especially since they boast an expert who’s particularly passionate about refining sales processes.
Telling the story of your business, your journey, your team, and the people you serve is wildly important—but not quite as important as WHY you exist. An evocative story helps you create a deeper connection with current and potential clients/customers. Here are four ways you can spruce up the story of your business to drive deeper connection. After all, connection is our highest form of currency these days. TALK ABOUT WHY YOU LOVE WHAT YOU DO. It’s so important for companies and organizations to articulate their WHY—and you don’t just do this once. This is the thread you should try and weave through all of the content you put into the world: in your social media, on your website, and even when you are being interviewed by media. Your WHY will attract the right talent to work towards your dreams, and it will also attract the right customers! CELEBRATE YOUR TEAM AND THEIR MEANINGFUL CONTRIBUTIONS PUBLICLY. People LOVE knowing you love your team and your team loves knowing you see them and celebrate their contributions. It will also help you as the leader/owner to celebrate the wins. Unfortunately in business, we aren’t always winning—and damn I wish we were. So, when we do win, WE HAVE TO CELEBRATE. Talking about the wins—even the small ones—publicly helps us remember how to focus on the good, AND our customers LOVE seeing a company that lifts up their team members as the heroes. Choose someone on your team today and make a post about them! CREATE CONTENT THAT REFLECTS THE PROBLEMS YOUR BUSINESS IS SOLVING FOR YOUR CUSTOMERS REGULARLY. Look—like it or not, businesses are known by the problems we solve for our consumers. If you aren’t solving problems, what are you doing? A HUGE part of your brands story is the problems you are solving. Be the company that consistently talks about the solutions you are bringing to the table! Even if it seems super self explanatory, it’s always worth reminding your current and future consumers. SET BIG GOALS THAT MAKE A DIFFERENCE AND TELL PEOPLE! Be a catalyst for good. Have your team pick an organization that you love and is in line with your WHY, and start helping. I know what you are thinking… “We don’t have time to do something like that. We are barely getting what we need to get done as a business…” and I hear you. But what I’ve learned is that teams that CHOOSE to volunteer or pursue something to make the world better together are so much stronger than the ones that don’t. It can be as simple as a food drive for a neighborhood food bank, doing a 5k for a charity and training together, or better yet—ask YOUR TEAM to help choose a cause. And when you choose it—TALK ABOUT IT. Not to show off, but instead to inspire others to do the same! The legacy of your business is being written every day… so take an ACTIVE role in making sure it’s the story you WANT TO TELL . Is what’s out there how you want people to remember you? If not, CHANGE IT! And if you need help, Good Grit Agency would love to be a thought partner.
For the last 8 years I’ve been interviewing people—all different ages, all different roles, and personality types of all kinds—and here is what I know: interviewing is hard for both parties! As the interviewer, I have so much pressure on me to discern if this person is a good fit, and if they are truthful in their own evaluation of skills. Are they likable? Passionate? A good fit for culture? The list goes on and on. And as for the person sitting in the hot seat? Well, you need a job! And sometimes, depending how much you want said job—the little things seem to slip. So here ya go friends, my best advice for those of you trying to land the job of your dreams… or hey, the job for right now. 1. Do Your Homework. Nothing is more impressive than someone who shows up to an interview with something relevant about my business to discuss …or compliment, or ask a question. It’s enough to get me leaning into that person and really hoping they are a good fit. Listen, I own a magazine, one wildly distributed in most every US state. I can’t tell you how many people I’ve interviewed since it’s inception that tell me they “love it,” but they’ve never seen a hard copy. WHAT? No. Just no. The same goes for any brand—you may not have access to something tangible like a magazine for the company you are interviewing for, but read up on them—not just their website, but articles by other people. If it’s possible, you should find out more about the person interviewing you! It goes a long way to come in knowing enough to be interested. 2. Forget About Being Interesting, Be Interested. You have a limited amount of time to prove you are the perfect candidate for this job that you really want or NEED . I get it. We are all tempted to dive into hyper bragging—or at least the explanation of our skill set and what makes us the right person. But don’t do it. Don’t give into the temptation. Not yet. A first interview is the interview I’m trying to determine your likability, listening skills, curiosity, and relationship skills above all else. If you spend the first 30 minutes with me talking about yourself, I’m left scratching my head on those skills. Instead, ask questions! Interview the interviewer. “How long have you worked here?” “Tell me about the company culture?” “What other position within this company have you held?” Whatever you do, be interested . The more interested you are, the more interesting this interviewer will find you. 3. Find Out The Problem Your Position Will Be Solving. Now, I know this may seem redundant, but after showing up knowledgeable and inquisitive, then it’s time to move into some specifics about the particular position. You know what I always wish a potential candidate would ask me? “If this position could solve a problem for you, what would it be?” Honestly, if someone asked me this question, I would probably pass out. It’s brilliant. Not just because it makes you seem like you are a solution-oriented person (which is MY FAVORITE TYPE OF HUMAN ), it also gives you valuable intel. See, if you know a big problem, then you can really set yourself up to do homework for a follow up email or phone call… or if things go really well, a 2nd interview! 4. Ask For Homework. In my experience, my most successful working relationships have been built on project based building blocks. Time is a gift we don’t always have when we need a job (or when we need to fill a position quickly ), but don’t be afraid to offer up a quick project to highlight how you could solve that big problem they told you about. This shows you are hungry, and that you are more than a resume. There is nothing that inspires me and motivates me more than someone with initiative, a great attitude, and finish-line drive.
I started my first business in 2013 the way most people in sales and marketing do when they leave a corporate job: I became a consultant. Which is just a socially acceptable way of saying I was a generalist with confidence and a laptop. Early on, I was in a meeting with a potential client when they asked if I did SEO. I said yes immediately. No hesitation. No qualifiers. Just an enthusiastic, “Absolutely.” I had never heard of SEO. I Googled it in the parking lot after the meeting and realized—pretty quickly—that I was going to need to find someone who actually knew what they were doing. That was the entrepreneur’s way in those early years. You say yes, figure it out later, and hope your nervous system can keep up with your ambition. By 2014, I had moved out of straight consultancy and into something more specific. I launched Good Grit with the belief that the South deserved better storytelling—more nuance, more texture, more honesty. I wanted to shine a light on the place I was from, not the caricature of it. It was easy to say I was from Savannah, Georgia. People knew what to do with that. It sounded romantic. Historic. Safe. Alabama was a harder sell. This was before people understood what an ecological gold mine Alabama actually is, before the rest of the country started paying attention to its food systems, its biodiversity, its creative communities. When I traveled for work and people asked where I lived, I was always a little more tempted to say Savannah than Birmingham—not because I was ashamed, but because I was tired. There was still so much stigma wrapped up in that part of the world, and explaining yourself gets old. Good Grit went to print with its first issue in July of 2015. By early 2016, things were moving quickly. And loudly. And imperfectly. That year was… a lot. It was the year my childhood trauma finally bubbled to the surface. The year I took a hard look at my life and thought, holy shit, you might be the least qualified mom to ever walk the planet. The year I was living in what we lovingly called the Harry Potter apartment—a one-bedroom where my son’s bed was in a closet because he was away at boarding school on full scholarship. I felt perpetually one step away from either stardom or living in my BMW. All of that was happening in the background in 2016—the year I had to fire someone for the first time. She was a contract employee, ten years my senior, influential, and already well-known. She had a following. Momentum. Opinions. She was polarizing in a way I’ve always been drawn to. There’s something intoxicating about people who are brave enough to split a room. Her risk didn’t change after I hired her. But my awareness of it did. We were paying her more than anyone else on the team—including me. Not because we couldn’t afford her—she was in the budget—but because what we couldn’t afford was how destabilizing the situation had become. She had her own vision for the company. My investors weren’t comfortable with it. And I didn’t yet know how to hold my own authority without collapsing into everyone else’s expectations. Here’s what I would never recommend to another founder: do not go to someone’s house, sit at their kitchen table, and end their contract the week before Easter, in the heart of the Bible Belt, before their kids get home from school. That is exactly what I did. I cried. I blamed everyone but myself. I’m fairly certain I threw my investors under the bus. I had no emotional capacity to lead the conversation, much less the company it represented. And when you fire someone for the first time—especially when you’re the owner—everything suddenly feels enormous. You wonder what this will do to the team. Whether people will leave with her. Whether she’s actually the magic sauce holding everything together. Whether you’re about to implode the culture you’re trying so desperately to build. I didn’t have a backup plan. I just knew that what we were doing wasn’t sustainable. It couldn’t carry us into the future I felt responsible for stewarding. What I didn’t understand then—but see clearly now—is that leadership doesn’t break down because you lack information. It breaks down when you lack internal capacity. And unhealed stress doesn’t stay personal. It shows up systemically. That year—2016—was also the year I hired the number one psychoanalyst in Birmingham, Alabama. A man I could not afford. He let me pay on a sliding scale, which in hindsight was one of the kindest and most disruptive things anyone has ever done for me. I didn’t go to therapy because I thought something was “wrong.” I went because everything was loud, and I was tired of pretending I could outwork the noise. A few sessions in, he asked me a question that landed somewhere between absurd and offensive. He said, “Why do you believe you’re valuable at work, but not personally?” I laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it felt… incorrect. Like he had mixed up my chart with someone else’s. I remember thinking, that’s not how this works. I was very clear on where I added value. I had businesses. Ideas. Momentum. I was useful. Productive. Needed. Personal worth felt like a completely different category. Separate. Irrelevant, even. Except that question shattered the illusion that those categories were real. Because the truth—one I was not ready to confront—was that I didn’t actually have two measures of worth. I had one. And I was just very good at overperforming in the places where validation was easiest to earn. We like to believe we can compartmentalize our lives indefinitely. That we can be confident in one lane and deeply insecure in another without consequence. That we can be wildly capable at work and quietly collapsing everywhere else, and somehow those things won’t touch. They always touch. What I was calling “compartmentalization” was really just delay. A temporary structure held together by adrenaline, approval, and sheer willpower. And eventually, those compartments don’t stay sealed—they seep into each other and turn into a really weird shit soup. That was the year I started to understand something I hadn’t yet named: you don’t lead from your highest-performing self. You lead from your most regulated one. And mine wasn’t. Around the same time, I was trying—very awkwardly—to build a life that didn’t feel like it might implode if one thing went wrong. I was learning how to be a friend, which meant admitting I didn’t actually know how. I was trying to create a culture at work that I wanted to be part of, not just responsible for. I wanted Good Grit to be a place where people felt proud of what they were building together, not just exhausted by it. But here’s the part no one really tells you when you’re leading something for the first time: you cannot build a culture you don’t have the internal capacity to sustain. I wanted a calm, thoughtful, values-driven organization. What I had was urgency, fear, and a leader who was still learning how to sit with discomfort without outsourcing it onto the people around her. Healing didn’t show up as some dramatic breakthrough that year. It showed up as responsibility. As staying in conversations I wanted to escape. As listening more than talking. As realizing that my job wasn’t to be the smartest person in the room—it was to be the safest one.