Finding Direction in Detours

There’s a unique kind of exhaustion that comes from juggling everything behind the scenes in a small company: HR policies, hiring, onboarding, performance management, terminations, payroll, benefits, and the endless rhythm of compliance. Add to that the general services most people forget someone has to manage: cell phones, fleet, insurance renewals, expenses, cleaning contracts, snacks, and vendor coordination. It’s not glamorous, but it’s essential. And I do it because I care deeply about the people and the organization.

I show up every day and try to make things smoother for everyone. I listen, I coach, I document, I adjust. I build systems that help others succeed. I solve problems before they become crises. I keep the wheels turning.

So when the CEO visits from abroad and doesn’t have time to meet with me, no check-in, no curiosity about what’s working or what’s next, it stings. I had hoped for a moment to share the progress, the plans, the challenges. Instead, five minutes before his cab to the airport, he walks into my office and unloads: “You’re doing a terrible job. Everything’s falling apart. You have no control. You’re the first one not setting a good example.”

I was stunned. Not because I think I’m perfect, but because that kind of feedback, delivered without context, without conversation, without care, felt like a punch to the gut. Is this how leadership is supposed to work? Is this how I’m going to be managed?

I believe in accountability. I believe in growth. But I also believe in dignity. If we want people to lead well, we have to model it from the top. I’m not asking for praise, I’m asking for the kind of leadership that sees effort, asks questions, and builds trust.

Because behind every clean office, every working phone, every new hire, and every policy update, there’s someone quietly holding it all together.