5 A-Ha Moments (and a Bonus) That Shaped My Leadership and Mindset

There are things you figure out as you go—lessons that come from experiences, usually the bad ones. They’re unfiltered—so traumatizing that you hide them away so you don’t have to think about them, and no one knows you have them, let alone where you’re keeping them. I used to have a lot of these things.

Now, I have a lot fewer, albeit just a smaller version of "a lot." These are mine, the things that, once I realized them, created a massive amount of space in my brain that I could dedicate to pursuing what I actually wanted. Interestingly, at least for me, the space created was quickly taken up by figuring out what I did want. It turns out that once you develop a mindset that allows you to confront reality without flinching, the next step is clear: you lead yourself with purpose.

Confused? Yeah, me too. Want to hear them anyway? Too late. You’ve read too far to turn away now. Here are five big lessons and one bonus reminder I keep coming back to.

1. Coming Out: Nobody Cared, and That’s a Good Thing

For years, I knew I was different, which is just my way of not saying I knew I was gay. Oddly enough, it wasn’t until I was well into my teens that I even knew what "gay" was. I wasn’t sheltered at all—I suppose rural Indiana in the 80s and 90s was not a hotbed of gay culture.

What I do remember is never missing an episode of 90210 every Thursday night at 8:00 PM (hello, Brandon) and having an odd obsession with L.A. Law (men in suits!)—as well as Grace Van Owen, so fiercely played by Susan Dey (powerful woman, also in a suit). And one more thing: Working Girl. That movie was the seed of my desire to get to NYC and live a fabulous executive life, which, ironically, is what drove me to the edge of sanity.

Anyway, once being gay became real, I wasn’t fazed about it. At all. I was excited. I liked being different, and it was like I figured out why I was different. Once I decided to start telling people, I expected judgment, resistance, maybe even rejection (only one person!). When I finally came out, there was no drama—mostly a collective shrug. One of my best friends (still to this day) responded with, “Duh.” It just wasn’t a big deal for me or most anyone else.

It’s easy to let yourself think that your personal life, your choices, your issues, are at the center of other people’s lives. They’re not. This was the first time, as an adult, that I recognized this. People care, sure, but not in the way I thought. They’re not obsessing over my identity, my struggles, or my decisions. They’re dealing with their own. My “big reveal” was just another Tuesday for everyone else. It’s humbling to realize how little you’re the focus of anyone else’s world, and that’s a good thing. You get to be whoever you are without the imaginary audience in your head judging you. Once I got that, I could get on with my life without wondering who would “accept” it.

Note: I am incredibly fortunate that this was my experience, as many LGBTQ+ people’s experiences are nothing like mine.

2. Life is Hard, Period

Here’s a truth (or, Truth, in my opinion—that capital ‘T’ makes it different) that doesn’t get enough attention: everything is hard. Not just the big, important stuff—all of it. We accept that the right, big, important things should be hard work, and then we’re blindsided when even the little things pile on.

Sorry, folks. It’s all a grind. Expecting things to be easy is one of the biggest setups for disappointment there is. Do you think that we all walk around just working and grinding in hopes that, one day, things will just be easy peasy? Well, I used to think that.

Things just don’t get easier. That implies a kind of static stability that, logically, makes zero sense. Life just doesn’t work that way. And frankly, the energy we waste trying to make things easier would be better spent facing reality. Once I stopped expecting an easy road, I started dealing with things head-on. I came to this conclusion recently, and it’s been freeing.

Accepting that life is hard is more than a mindset shift—it’s the first real step in taking ownership of my path. The question isn’t, “Why is this so tough?” but “How can I manage through this and get past it?” It cuts through the nonsense and puts the focus where it should be: on managing through it or around it and knowing that it’s just not easy. Ever. How you process it and put it behind you is a sort of superpower that you already have. Tap into it.

3. Expectations Are Just Yours. No One Else Signed Up

For a long time, I thought people should act a certain way (still a struggle, TBH), that they ought to act and respond in a certain way, which I believe is just human. If not kind, then not unkind. If not perfect, at least empathetic. But people don’t live by our standards. They live by theirs.

My expectations of others are just that: my expectations. When my expectations were not met (which was most of the time), I found myself in an inescapable, snowballing state of resentment. That’s a sucky way to exist.

The gap between how people “should” act and how they actually do is where resentment, frustration, and disappointment live. When someone didn’t meet my expectations, I used to make it about them. The problem wasn’t them; it was me. I was expecting them to follow my script when they’re living by their own. If I get let down, that’s on me for holding on to expectations that no one else agreed to meet.

Letting go of the “should” wasn’t just a relief; it was an exercise in leadership of self. Leading myself meant focusing on what I can control—my own reactions, not someone else’s behavior. People aren’t the problem. Our need for them to be anything other than who they are? That’s the real issue.

4. Victimhood is a Choice

Oh, how I loved playing the victim. Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this?

There’s comfort in thinking that life is “doing this to me.” It lets you off the hook from having to deal with your own choices, your own accountability. Choosing victimhood is choosing helplessness. It feels safe in the short term, but it’s a dead end.

When I finally got tired of being in that headspace, I realized that the choice was always mine. Of course, there are things that happen to us that are outside our control, but how we respond to them? That’s always in our hands. If you’re always focused on what’s being “done to you,” you’re screwed.

You accept, or convince yourself, that people are out to get you, or don’t like you. Haven’t you done enough good to deserve not to be victimized? There’s a name for this: quiet narcissism. It’s a self-manufactured view that your past suffering entitles you to things, like being placed on a higher shelf by people in all aspects of your life because you’ve “paid your dues.”

Choosing to see myself as an agent in my life, instead of a victim, was the only way forward. This shift in mindset was essential, even more powerful than any motivation tactic. Blaming the world for everything that’s wrong is tempting but ultimately powerless. Once again, you have an unreasonable expectation (most are!) of others, and instead of resenting it, you play the victim. Perhaps, resentment and victimhood are the same.

5. Self-Accountability is Real Freedom

Being accountable to someone else? That’s manageable. But being accountable to yourself is a lot more difficult. See, it’s easy to just take things as they come and accept where we are. We don’t allow ourselves to think about what doesn’t work in life and what could work better.

Why? Because your brain doesn’t want you to. Your brain doesn’t care about how you feel. It only wants you to survive. Change is a threat to that survival. Thus, compartmentalization takes over. No change, no threat to survival. Brain: happy. Your emotions and feelings: depleted.

We set the bar for ourselves in every aspect of life. It’s liberating, but it’s also intense. For a long time, I chased external validation. I needed to hit other people’s targets, meet their expectations, and prove myself by their standards (especially at work). Now, the only standards that matter are my own. There’s nothing like the satisfaction of knowing you’re in charge of your own progress. You either get there or you don’t, but it’s on you. This self-leadership is the only path to real autonomy. And it’s the only validation that sticks because it’s not built on someone else’s opinion.

Bonus: Sobriety Isn’t Instant Gratification

Let’s talk about drinking. I had my run with it, and I quit. Even when you quit, the work isn’t done. Your body will bounce back quickly, but your brain takes its time. I still lose track of thoughts, fumble for words, and I know exactly why. There’s a cost to drinking, and I paid it. It doesn’t end the day you put the bottle down.

FYI: it can take up to two years for cognitive function to return to normal after you stop drinking (or abusing alcohol the way that I did).

There’s a frustration that comes with knowing you’ve done the work, but there’s a delay in the payoff. The brain’s recovery process is slower than the body’s, and every time I stumble over my words, I’m reminded of the price I paid. It’s not about regretting the past—it’s about accepting the reality of the choices I made. Sobriety is a process, not a quick fix. You give up a habit, but you’re left with its legacy, and that’s something you can’t just shake off.

These aren’t feel-good realizations or easy answers. They’re facts. They’re uncomfortable, but they’re real, and that’s what makes them matter. Each one of these points has shaped how I live and how I approach my choices, my relationships, and my work. Developing a strong mindset, learning to lead myself, and taking accountability don’t fix everything, but they strip away the noise. Life doesn’t get easier, but it does get clearer. And when you stop waiting for “easy,” that’s when you actually start to get somewhere worth going.

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