Do You Have It?

A new perspective on grit, plus the hard lessons and wisdom of two decades in the trenches.

I have been thinking a lot about grit recently.

Since reading Angela Duckworth's seminal 2016 book Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance, I have worn my hard-earned grit like a Girl Scout Badge of Honor. I am a survivor of hard things (i.e. battling a debilitating brain disease called pseudotumor cerebri, in my 20s and 30s made life a full contact sport), and her words gave me permission to reframe those difficult years as value add vs. trauma.

Herculean levels of grit were forged between 2001 and 2014 as I attempted to escape the disease's symptoms by focusing on constant motion: 12-14 hour work days, action-packed weekends, always moving, never stopping. Because when I did stop, the pain came sharply into focus.

Despite the illness, all that 24/7 gritty determination resulted in great rewards. Between 2003 and 2022 I built four companies, received two master's degrees, traveled around the world, and raised $3M for my startup. I shook hands with exceptional people, sat at tables with the wealthy and powerful, and created the life I had always dreamed of. By 2024, my startup was growing and national expansion opportunities were within reach.

However, in November 2024, after 23 years of grit and grinding, it all came to a stop.

When Grit Stops the Wheels

Lying on the floor, eyes closed tightly, a blanket covered my tender body as I shuddered through the rise and fall of my lungs in a breathwork class. Tears streamed down my face as I shook uncontrollably—decades of pain, sadness, fear, trauma, anger, and grief consumed my nervous system.

“Make it stop," I wailed. "Make it stop."

Class came to a close, my body finished its emotional exorcism and I lay in stillness. As my eyes fluttered opened, it felt as though layer upon layer of grit had been scrubbed off the windows, and I could suddenly feel the light pouring through.

Six weeks later, I stepped away as President and CEO of TARRA.

Nuances of Grit

You've heard the classic phrase "what got you here won't get you there." A younger me questioned that, believing my ability to grind harder than others was my superpower.

More and more, however, I'm starting to deeply understand the nuance of the words.

Different chapters of life require different skills, new ways of thinking and working.

Yes, grit is powerful. Most successful people I know have had grit-inducing experiences—illness, pain, addiction, difficult upbringing, poverty, bullying, or otherwise. I agree with Duckworth that these experiences are essential for anyone who wants to be an entrepreneur or C-suite leader because they teach you two critical things: 1) how to keep moving forward when things get tough, and 2) that fear can be a great motivator for action.

However, many of these same successful people—myself included—often reach a chapter of life, where their operating level of grit becomes detrimental to either their health or their ability to lead people. Those 14-hour work days become ill-suited to leading a team because you're setting an example that leads to burnout.

Hard Lessons

I recently had a 90-day performance review for my new role at the global hospitality company I joined after leaving TARRA (noting that this was the first 90-day review in 15 years). It was rife with blinking red light messages of "what got you here won't get you there."

Feedback #1—Fast decisions aren't always right decisions: Slow down, take your time. Ask questions. Dig deeper. Why? When the stakes are higher and you're working with a bigger team on a global scale, wrong decisions have higher impact. What got me here—fast action, always moving—won't get me there: smart decision-making that allows time for innovation and creativity to percolate.

Feedback #2—Facilitate decision-making instead of dictating: Turning off my founder brain has been far more difficult than I thought. After 15 years of leading myself and others, decision-making felt like my sole purpose in life. However, in this new role, my job is to help others make decisions. What got me here—rapid decision-making—won't get me there: facilitating and building trust with others.

Feedback #3—Drop the insecurities: You aren't the expert in the room, but you could be someday. This hit deep. For 15 years, I have been the expert in the room. But now I’m in a position where I am providing value but I am definitely not the expert. To mask my insecurities, I operated in “I got this” mode, trying to prove I belonged by attempting to say intelligent things, voicing opinions, and creating more work for myself than necessary (cringe). What got me here—being the leader—won't get me there—being part of a team.

A few hours after my performance review, I sat back to reflect. It became clear that my default mode of grit-grind-go-keep-moving will not serve me well in this next chapter. Moving fast and asking for forgiveness later doesn't work when you have 250+ teammates counting on you. I also recognized that the need to prove my value to others only looks like deep insecurity and desperation to those who know themselves and feel comfortable in their own skin.

Permission to Evolve

My recommendation to the gritty grinders out there is this: Be a proud survivor of whatever difficulties and challenges life has thrown your way, and reconsider if you want those mechanisms define who you are forever.

Yes, you can push through hard things. Yes, you can work long hours. Yes, you can get more done in a day than most. Yes, you can fight ten fires at a time.

And you can also choose to slow down a little, soften around the edges, create space for joy and curiosity and creativity. You can put the work away and find moments of true, restorative rest. Your success in this next chapter will likely depend on your ability to stop moving so fast, so consider this your permission slip.

Wisdom in Grit

The greatest act of grit isn’t pushing past the limits when your your body and soul are asking for rest. It is about recognizing when your greatest strength has become a limitation.

Grit got us here. It built our companies, earned our degrees, and proved that we could persist against all odds. However, the next chapter requires a new way of interacting with the world: patience instead of speed, collaboration instead of control, vulnerability instead of invincibility.

The question isn't whether you're strong enough to keep grinding. The question is whether you're wise enough to evolve.

Your next chapter is waiting. What will it look like?