Confidence, connection, and influence are often grouped together, but they are not the same thing.

Confidence helps you step forward. It allows you to speak clearly, make decisions, and trust what you bring to the table.

But confidence alone does not make people want to follow you.

That takes connection.

Connection is built when people feel seen, heard, and valued. It happens when you take time to learn what motivates someone, listen to their ideas, recognize their effort, and show interest in them before asking what they can do for you.

These moments may seem small, but they create trust.

And trust is where influence begins.

People may follow your title because they have to. They follow your influence because they trust you.

Connection does not mean lowering expectations or avoiding difficult conversations. In fact, accountability is often more effective when the relationship is strong. People are more open to coaching when they believe the person giving it genuinely wants them to succeed.

Real influence is not about being the loudest person in the room or having all the answers. It is the ability to help people believe in themselves, work toward a shared goal, and make better decisions—even when you are not standing beside them.

Confidence may get people’s attention.

Connection earns their trust.

Influence is what becomes possible after that trust has been built.

The best leaders understand that all three matter. They have the confidence to lead, the willingness to connect, and the trust required to make a lasting impact.

Most people don’t need another lecture about discipline.

They already know they should drink more water, eat balanced meals, move their bodies, and get enough sleep. Knowing what to do usually isn’t the problem.

The problem is trying to do it while managing a demanding schedule, making decisions all day, taking care of other people, and handling whatever unexpected situation shows up next.

By the time the day slows down, you’re tired. You’re hungry. You’ve already made a hundred decisions, and the last thing you want to do is make another one.

That doesn’t mean you lack motivation. It may simply mean you have made taking care of yourself harder than it needs to be.

We often create healthy routines for the version of ourselves who has plenty of time and energy. We plan the perfect workout, the perfectly prepared meal, and the ideal nighttime routine.

Then real life happens.

The schedule changes. The day runs longer than expected. You miss the workout, grab whatever food is available, and promise yourself you’ll start over tomorrow.

What if the answer isn’t expecting more from yourself?

What if the answer is removing some of the obstacles?

Prepare for the version of yourself who will be tired, hungry, busy, and tempted to say, “I’ll start again tomorrow.”

Keep water within reach. Have a simple protein option available when a full meal doesn’t happen. Prepare what you need for your workout before the day becomes demanding.

These choices may seem small, but that is the point.

Healthy habits don’t need to be impressive. They need to be easy enough to repeat.

It also helps to create a shorter version of the habit for difficult days. If the full workout isn’t possible, move for ten minutes. If the meal you planned falls through, make the best choice available. If your evening routine feels like too much, choose one small action that helps you slow down.

The shorter version is not failure. It is the habit adapting to your real life.

We understand this idea in leadership. Good leaders create systems that make it easier for their teams to succeed. We organize the work, provide the right tools, communicate expectations, and prepare for the challenges we can see coming.

We don’t tell the team to rely on motivation and hope everything works out.

Why should caring for ourselves be any different?

We deserve systems that support us, too.

One of the simplest ways to build a habit is to connect it to something you already do. Instead of creating another task you have to remember, give the habit a natural place in the life you already have.

The less you have to debate, plan, or negotiate with yourself, the more likely you are to follow through.

As a nutrition coach, I believe wellness should work with your life—not depend on your life becoming less demanding. People in fast-paced environments do not need more pressure or another complicated plan. They need realistic habits that can survive their hardest days.

You do not have to change everything at once.

Look at one habit you have been struggling with and ask yourself:

What keeps getting in my way?

How could I make this more convenient?

What is the smallest version I can still do on a difficult day?

What could I prepare ahead of time?

Sometimes the problem isn’t that you need more willpower. Sometimes there are simply too many steps between you and the choice you want to make.

Remove one step.

Simplify the plan. Lower the barrier. Make the next action clear and easy to begin.

Make the healthy choice easier—not more impressive.

Because taking care of yourself should not feel like one more impossible responsibility on your list.

You may not need more discipline. You may simply need to make the next healthy choice easier to reach.

One of the best ways to build a management team that can support you is to help them understand the business they’re helping you run.

We ask them to control labor, reduce waste, deliver great food, and take care of our guests. But have we taken the time to explain the numbers? Do they understand how their decisions affect the results? Do they know where we stand and what needs to happen next?

We can’t expect people to own results they don’t understand.

Telling a manager to “keep labor tight” gives them a direction. Sitting down with them, reviewing sales, looking at the schedule, and talking through when to make adjustments gives them the tools to act.

That is development. And the more they understand, the more they can support you.

It means explaining the why behind the expectation. Helping someone connect what happens on a shift to the bigger picture. Giving them room to make decisions, then following up to talk about what worked and what they could do differently.

Sometimes it’s as simple as asking, “Where are we in labor today, and what’s your plan?”

Their answer tells you a lot. Do they know the numbers? Can they explain their decisions? Are they waiting for you to tell them what to do, or are they already thinking ahead?

Those conversations build confidence and ownership. They also give you a chance to teach before a small problem becomes a bigger one.

Clear communication sets the expectation. Follow-through helps turn it into a habit.

One conversation won’t do it. Development takes repetition. Review the results together. Recognize a smart decision. Address a missed opportunity. Keep helping them connect their actions to the outcome.

And yes, that takes time.

When you’re busy, it can feel easier to make the adjustment yourself. You know what needs to happen, and you can probably do it faster. But if you always make the decision, your managers miss the opportunity to learn how to make it.

You end up carrying decisions they could be learning to own.

The more you develop others, the easier your job gets. You have managers who can recognize a problem, make a smart adjustment, and follow through. You can trust them with more because you’ve helped prepare them for more.

Now you have a team of people working toward the same goals, supporting each other and making everyone’s job easier.

Now you have someone helping you carry the responsibility.

That frees you up to start developing other team members.

That’s how a team grows. You develop your managers, and they become better equipped to develop the people around them.

Have you ever really thought about what it means to build a team from scratch?

You hire 100 different people.

Different ages. Different backgrounds. Different experiences. Different strengths. Different stories.

And a whole lot of different personalities.

Then you put all of them in the same building.

There wasn’t an existing culture waiting for us.

We built the culture together—as one team.

If you really stop and think about it, it’s kind of crazy.

You’re bringing together people who may have never crossed paths otherwise. People who think differently, communicate differently, learn differently, and approach problems differently.

And you really have no idea how all of those personalities are going to fit together.

Some are loud. Some are quiet.

Some jump right in. Others watch and listen first.

Some challenge you.

Some surprise you.

And some have strengths you don’t even know about yet.

That’s where leadership comes in.

You learn your people.

You figure out what they’re good at.

You learn what motivates them.

You help them understand each other.

You set the expectations, give people something to believe in, and build the culture together.

And then one day, you look around.

People are helping each other without being asked.

Friendships have formed.

They’re teaching each other.

They’re laughing together.

They’re solving problems together.

They’re starting to take care of each other.

And that’s when you have that moment:

Ohhh. There it is.

Yeah… this IS going to work. Perfectly.

Because somewhere along the way, 100 different people stopped being 100 different people who happened to work in the same building.

They became a team.

That’s the part you can’t completely plan for.

You can hire the people. You can train them. You can set expectations and create the environment.

But then they start bringing their own personalities, strengths, relationships, and ideas into it.

And something you couldn’t have built by yourself starts taking shape.

Building a great team isn’t about finding people who are all the same. It’s about finding the right mix of people—and giving them a reason to work together.

Maybe that’s the real goal of building a team.

Not finding people who fit together perfectly.

But creating a place where different people can come together, bring the best of who they are, and become something better together than they ever could have been individually.

And then you get to step back, look at what all those different people have created together, and think:

Yeah. I think this is going to work.

That’s the crazy—and pretty amazing—part of building a team.

Lately, I’ve been exploring multi-unit leadership and trying to learn as much as I can.

And one of the biggest things I’m learning is that the higher you grow in leadership, the more you have to learn to step back and see the bigger picture.

For most of my career, I’ve been responsible for what happens inside my four walls. My people. My business. My results. I know how to dig into the details, identify a problem, and work toward fixing it.

But I’m learning that multi-unit leadership requires a different lens.

It’s not just about having the answer.

It’s about asking bigger and better questions.

What am I missing?

Is this the real problem—or is it the result of something deeper?

What can I learn from someone who sees this differently?

How can I help someone find the answer instead of simply giving it to them?

And maybe the biggest shift for me has been learning to look beyond my own business.

I’m learning how to help my peers. How to listen to what they’re experiencing, ask questions, share what has worked for me, and sometimes simply offer another perspective.

That has stretched me in a good way.

I’ve always loved learning, and I’m realizing how much I enjoy being challenged in new ways. There’s something exciting about stepping into an area where I don’t have all the answers yet—where I get to listen, ask questions, learn from other leaders, and see things from a completely different perspective.

After doing something successfully for a long time, it would be easy to stay where I’m comfortable. To rely on what I already know.

But I don’t want to stop learning just because I’ve become good at what I do.

I want to keep putting myself in rooms where I have something to learn. I want to be challenged to think differently. And the more I learn about multi-unit leadership, the more I’m enjoying that challenge.

I’m also learning that leadership at this level isn’t necessarily about knowing more than everyone else. Sometimes it’s about being able to step back far enough to see what someone else may not see yet.

It’s understanding that every business is different. Every leader is different. And what works for one person or one situation may not be the answer for another.

That requires listening before responding. Asking before assuming. And understanding before trying to solve.

Maybe seeing the bigger picture isn’t about having a wider view because you have all the answers.

Maybe it’s about having a wider view because you’re willing to keep asking questions.

The more I learn, the more I realize how much there still is to learn.

And surprisingly, that’s the part I’m enjoying the most.

I’d love to hear from you: What has helped you learn to step back and see the bigger picture?

Pull up a chair. ❤️ If you enjoy conversations about leadership, growth, wellness, and life along the way, subscribe to Shae’s Table and join me here.

I’m an introvert.

That sometimes surprises people.

I’ve spent most of my career in restaurants—a business built around people, noise, conversations, decisions, personalities, and constant interaction.

I’ve led large teams. I’ve trained people. I’ve stood in front of rooms and spoken. I’ve had difficult conversations. I’ve coached managers and developed leaders.

And I’m still an introvert.

For a long time, I think we had this picture of what a leader was supposed to look like.

Outgoing.

Charismatic.

The first one to speak.

The person who can walk into a room full of strangers and immediately own it.

Those people can absolutely be great leaders.

But so can the person sitting quietly at the table, listening to everything that’s being said.

Because leadership isn’t about how much you talk.

It’s about what happens when you do.

Quiet Doesn’t Mean You Don’t Have a Voice

Being an introvert doesn’t mean I’m afraid to speak up.

Trust me, I have no problem doing that.

It means I don’t always need to.

I’m comfortable listening.

I’m comfortable observing.

I like to understand what’s happening before I react.

And I’ve learned that those things can be incredibly useful in leadership.

When you spend more time listening, you notice things.

You notice when someone’s confidence has changed.

You notice the employee who hasn’t said much during the meeting.

You notice tension between two people before it becomes a bigger problem.

You notice who’s stepping up when nobody is watching.

Sometimes the person saying the least is actually taking in the most.

Leadership Doesn’t Require a Personality Change

This is something I wish more people understood.

You don’t have to become someone else to become a leader.

An introvert doesn’t need to suddenly become the most outgoing person in the building.

You need to learn how to lead as yourself.

There are times I’ve had to step outside my comfort zone.

Leadership requires that.

You have to introduce yourself.

You have to walk into unfamiliar rooms.

You have to speak in front of people.

You have to address conflict.

You have to have conversations you’d probably rather avoid.

Being uncomfortable doesn’t mean you’re incapable.

Confidence and extroversion aren’t the same thing.

That took me a while to understand.

Some of My Best Leadership Happens One-on-One

Put me in a room and tell me to work the crowd?

Not exactly my dream scenario. But I could and have.

Give me one person and a real conversation?

That’s different.

That’s where I connect.

That’s where I ask questions.

That’s where I learn what someone wants, what they’re struggling with, and what they’re capable of becoming.

And when I think about the people I’ve helped develop throughout my career, very little of that happened because of some big motivational speech.

It happened in conversations.

A little coaching here.

A challenge there.

A moment when someone needed to hear, I think you’re capable of more than you think you are.

Leadership doesn’t always happen in front of an audience.

A lot of it happens when nobody else is listening.

The Loudest Voice Isn’t Automatically the Strongest

I’ve been in plenty of rooms where someone could command everyone’s attention.

That’s a skill.

But I’ve also learned not to confuse presence with leadership.

Sometimes leadership is the person who waits until everyone has spoken and then asks the question nobody else thought to ask.

Sometimes it’s the person who doesn’t need credit.

Sometimes it’s the leader who knows their people well enough to recognize when something isn’t right.

Sometimes it’s the person who creates space for everyone else’s voice instead of filling the room with their own.

There isn’t one personality type that owns leadership.

Lead Like You

I still need quiet after I’ve spent an entire day around people.

I still prefer meaningful conversations over small talk.

I still sometimes walk into a room full of people and have to tell myself, Okay, go talk to somebody.

That’s probably never going to change.

And I’m okay with that.

Because somewhere along the way, I stopped thinking being an introvert was something I needed to overcome.

It became something I learned to understand.

I know when to listen.

I know when to observe.

I know when to step forward.

And I definitely know when something needs to be said.

You don’t have to be the loudest person in the room.

You don’t have to work the room.

You don’t have to become someone you’re not.

You just have to be willing to use your voice when it matters.

Because leadership isn’t about being the person everyone hears.

It’s about being the person people trust enough to listen to.

Grit isn’t glamorous.

It doesn’t always look like a big comeback, a huge accomplishment, or some inspirational moment worthy of a highlight reel.

Most of the time, grit looks pretty ordinary.

It’s showing up when you’re tired.

It’s having the difficult conversation instead of avoiding it.

It’s trying again after something didn’t work.

It’s staying committed when the excitement has worn off and nobody is standing there cheering you on.

Grit is what happens after motivation leaves the room.

I’ve always believed hard work matters. But the longer I’ve led people—and the more life I’ve lived—the more I’ve realized that talent and hard work alone aren’t always enough.

You have to be able to take a hit.

You have to be able to hear feedback you don’t necessarily want to hear.

You have to be willing to fail at something, learn from it, adjust, and come back tomorrow.

That’s grit.

Restaurants Will Teach You Grit Quickly

There may be no better classroom for grit than a restaurant.

Some shifts humble you.

You can walk in completely prepared and still have three things go wrong before dinner even starts. Someone calls off. Equipment breaks. The wait gets long. The kitchen gets backed up. A guest is unhappy.

And everyone still needs you.

You learn pretty quickly that complaining about the problem doesn’t solve the problem.

You adjust.

You communicate.

You help where you’re needed.

You keep moving.

Then you come back and do it again tomorrow.

Over time, something happens.

You become harder to knock down.

Not because things stop bothering you. Not because you stop getting tired, frustrated, disappointed, or overwhelmed.

You simply learn that a hard day doesn’t have to become a bad story.

Grit Isn’t About Being Tough All the Time

I think we sometimes misunderstand grit.

Grit isn’t pretending everything is fine.

It isn’t working yourself into the ground.

It isn’t refusing to ask for help.

And it definitely isn’t staying in situations that are destroying you just so you can prove you’re strong enough to endure them.

Sometimes grit is pushing through.

Sometimes grit is changing direction.

Sometimes grit is admitting, This isn’t working. I need to do something differently.

There’s strength in knowing the difference.

Grit Is Built in Small Moments

Nobody wakes up one morning and suddenly becomes resilient.

You build it.

One uncomfortable conversation at a time.

One mistake you own.

One disappointment you recover from.

One more attempt when the first one didn’t work.

One promise to yourself that you actually keep.

Those moments don’t feel particularly significant while you’re living them.

But stack enough of them together and they become something powerful.

They become confidence.

Not the kind of confidence that says, Nothing bad will happen.

The kind that says:

Whatever happens, I trust myself to figure out what comes next.

That’s a very different kind of confidence.

Keep Going—But Keep Growing

There have been plenty of times in my career and my life when things didn’t happen the way I thought they would.

Doors didn’t open.

Plans changed.

People disappointed me.

I disappointed myself.

I’ve questioned whether I was on the right path and wondered whether all the effort would eventually lead somewhere.

But grit taught me something important:

Your job isn’t to know exactly how the story ends. Your job is to keep becoming the person capable of writing the next chapter.

Keep learning.

Keep adjusting.

Keep showing up.

Keep believing there’s something on the other side of the difficult season—even when you can’t see it yet.

Because grit isn’t about never getting knocked down.

It’s knowing you don’t have to stay there.

And sometimes the strongest thing you can say is simply:

I’ll try again tomorrow.

Nobody wakes up in the morning, looks in the mirror, and says:

“You know what? I think I’m going to suck today.”

I’m going to go to work and mess everything up.

I’m going to disappoint my team.

I’m going to make mistakes, fall behind, frustrate my manager, and have a terrible day.

Nobody starts their day with that plan.

And yet, as leaders, sometimes we treat people like they do.

Someone has a bad shift and we immediately think they don’t care.

Someone isn’t performing and we assume they’re lazy.

Someone keeps making the same mistake and we start wondering if they’re ever going to get it.

But what if we stopped for a minute and asked a different question?

Why are they struggling?

Maybe they weren’t trained well enough.

Maybe they don’t understand the expectation.

Maybe they’re overwhelmed.

Maybe they’re afraid to ask for help.

Maybe something is happening outside of work that we know nothing about.

Or maybe—and this matters too—they simply aren’t putting in the effort required.

Good leadership isn’t making excuses for poor performance.

It’s figuring out what’s behind it.

Curiosity Before Judgment

One of the easiest things to do as a leader is label someone.

Lazy.

Bad attitude.

Doesn’t care.

Not cut out for this.

Once we put that label on someone, we start looking for evidence that proves we’re right.

But leadership requires us to stay curious a little longer.

Instead of:

“What’s wrong with them?”

Try:

“What’s getting in their way?”

That’s a completely different conversation.

Maybe they need coaching.

Maybe they need clearer expectations.

Maybe they need more practice.

Maybe they need accountability.

And yes, sometimes they need to decide whether they actually want to be there.

But you won’t know until you have the conversation.

Accountability Still Matters

Understanding someone doesn’t mean lowering the standard.

I can care about you and still expect you to do your job.

I can understand that you’re having a difficult day and still hold you accountable.

I can give you another opportunity and expect you to do something with it.

Empathy and accountability can exist in the same conversation.

In fact, I think the best leaders know how to do both.

They don’t immediately write someone off.

But they also don’t continually make excuses for someone who isn’t willing to improve.

There’s a difference between can’t yet and won’t.

Our job as leaders is to figure out which one we’re dealing with.

Sometimes People Need Someone to Believe They Can Get Better

I’ve watched people struggle when they first started and eventually become some of the strongest people on the team.

I’ve seen people who needed more coaching than everyone else finally have that moment when everything clicked.

And I’ve seen what happens when someone realizes their leader hasn’t given up on them.

Their confidence changes.

Their effort changes.

Sometimes their entire career changes.

That’s one of the reasons developing people is such a huge part of leadership for me.

You never really know who someone can become when you’re only looking at who they are on their worst day.

Before You Write Someone Off

The next time someone has a terrible shift, misses the mark, or disappoints you, remember:

They probably didn’t wake up planning to suck today.

So coach them.

Ask questions.

Make the expectation clear.

Give honest feedback.

Hold them accountable.

Then give them the opportunity to show you what they do with it.

Because leadership isn’t about expecting perfection from people.

It’s about helping people become better—while never losing sight of the standard.

And sometimes, before deciding someone doesn’t care, we need to ask ourselves one more question:

Have I done everything I can as their leader to help them succeed?

Some leave for school. Some move. Some find a different opportunity. Some realize the restaurant business simply isn’t for them.

That’s normal.

But when you’re constantly hiring to replace people who just left?

That’s different.

At some point, you have to stop asking, “Why can’t we find people?” and start asking, “Why can’t we keep them?”

Because turnover is trying to tell you something.

Sometimes it’s telling you that your training isn’t strong enough.

Sometimes it’s telling you that your best employees are carrying too much of the load.

Sometimes it’s inconsistent scheduling, poor communication, lack of recognition, weak accountability, or employees feeling like nobody notices whether they stay or go.

And sometimes, it’s leadership.

That one is harder to look at.

It’s easy to blame the job market, the younger generation, work ethic, or the fact that “people just don’t want to work anymore.”

But good leaders are willing to ask a harder question:

What are we doing—or not doing—that makes good people want to leave?

Turnover doesn’t just cost you another employee.

It costs you time.

It costs you training.

It costs you consistency.

It puts more pressure on the people who stayed. They pick up extra shifts. They train another new person. They work short. They get tired. And if that cycle continues long enough, you risk losing them too.

That’s when turnover becomes contagious.

On the other hand, retention has a ripple effect too.

When people stay, they get better at their jobs. They build relationships. They understand the standards. They help train the next person. They become the employees you can depend on—and eventually, some of them become your next leaders.

That doesn’t happen by accident.

People need to know what is expected of them, but they also need to know they matter.

They need accountability and appreciation.

They need coaching, not just correction.

They need leaders who notice when they’re improving—not only when they make a mistake.

And they need to see that working hard can lead somewhere.

You will never eliminate turnover completely. Nor should that be the goal. Sometimes people need to move on, and sometimes a business needs to let someone go.

But constant turnover shouldn’t become something we simply accept as “part of the restaurant business.”

Your turnover is telling you a story about your workplace.

Pay attention to who is leaving.

Pay attention to who is staying.

And most importantly, pay attention to why.

Because hiring people may fill your schedule.

Keeping good people builds your business.

A résumé can tell people where you have worked, what positions you have held, and what you have accomplished.

But your leadership performance tells them who you really are.

It is easy to write that you develop people, build strong teams, create a positive culture, and deliver results. The real question is: Can people see those things in the way you lead every day?

Your performance should speak for you before you ever sit down for an interview.

Every shift, meeting, difficult conversation, and business decision becomes part of your résumé. People notice how you respond under pressure. They remember whether you take responsibility, follow through, and remain consistent when things are not going well.

They also notice how you treat people when there is nothing in it for you.

Leadership performance is not defined by one great day or one impressive result. It is built through the habits you repeat:

Showing up prepared.

Following through on your commitments.

Holding people accountable while still helping them improve.

Protecting your standards even when lowering them would be easier.

Developing people who are ready to take on bigger roles.

Creating results that continue even when you are not in the room.

Your title tells people what position you hold. Your performance shows them what kind of leader you are.

Results matter. Strong sales, controlled costs, improved customer scores, lower turnover, and a healthy bottom line all tell part of the story. But leadership is not only about what you accomplish. It is also about how you accomplish it.

Did your team grow along with the business?

Did you create confidence in others?

Did you leave the operation stronger than you found it?

Did people become better because they worked with you?

Those are leadership accomplishments too—and some of the most important ones.

A leader’s greatest résumé may be the people they have developed. When someone you trained earns a promotion, leads a successful team, or begins believing they are capable of more, your leadership is visible in their success.

You should not have to convince people that you are dependable if your history shows that you can be counted on. You should not have to announce that you build people if former employees are now leading teams of their own. You should not have to say that you create culture if people want to work with you and are proud of the team they belong to.

That does not mean your work will always speak for itself. You still need to advocate for yourself, communicate your goals, and make sure the right people understand your contributions. But when an opportunity appears, you should already have a body of work that supports what you say you are ready to do.

Do the work before the opportunity arrives.

Lead at the level you want to reach.

Build the results.

Develop the people.

Strengthen the culture.

Become known for consistency, character, and follow-through.

Your résumé may help you get into the room—but your leadership performance is what makes people believe you belong there.

Let your work become the evidence. Let your impact become the recommendation. Let your performance become your résumé.

Attention to detail has always been one of my greatest strengths.

I notice the things other people might walk past. Something out of place. A change in someone’s attitude. A number that does not look right. A task that was completed—but not quite to the standard it should have been.

Sometimes I wish I could turn it off. Once you train yourself to notice the details, it becomes almost impossible not to see them.

But over the years, I have learned that noticing what others miss is an important part of leadership.

It helps me recognize a problem before it becomes a much bigger one. I can often tell when a shift is getting ready to go in the wrong direction, when a routine is beginning to slip, or when someone on my team is struggling—even if they have not said anything.

The smallest details usually tell the bigger story.

One number on a report may reveal a pattern that needs attention. One missed step may show that additional training is needed. One subtle change in an employee may be a sign that it is time to check in and ask if everything is okay.

Attention to detail is not about searching for mistakes or expecting everything to be perfect. It is about being present enough to recognize what is happening around you.

There is also a difference between seeing something and understanding what it means.

Experience has taught me which details deserve immediate attention and which ones simply need to be watched. It has taught me to look beyond the surface, ask better questions, and connect things that may not seem related at first.

That ability did not develop overnight. It came from years of observing, listening, learning, and caring about the outcome.

Some people see attention to detail as being overly particular. I see it as ownership.

When you truly care about your business, your people, and your results, you pay attention. You do not assume everything is fine simply because no one has complained. You stay curious. You look closer. You ask why.

My attention to detail has not always made me the easiest person to work for. I know that. I see things quickly, and I expect them to be addressed. But my intention has never been to make someone feel as though nothing they do is good enough.

My intention is to help people see what they are capable of producing when they slow down, take pride in their work, and understand why the details matter.

I have learned to trust what I notice. More often than not, the small thing that catches my attention is pointing toward something larger.

What others may call overthinking, I often recognize as awareness.

What they may call being particular, I recognize as pride.

And what may look like a small detail today could be the very thing that protects the business, supports an employee, or prevents a problem tomorrow.

Noticing what others miss is not something I need to apologize for.

It is one of the strengths that has made me the leader I am.

If you’ve ever worked in a restaurant that was understaffed, you know this:

One missing person never affects just one position.

A cook calls off.

Now the other cooks are covering an extra station. Food takes a little longer. Plates aren’t coming out as quickly. The window starts filling up.

The server is waiting on food.

The host is seating guests who don’t know what’s happening behind the kitchen doors.

The bartender is making drinks, taking care of the bar and helping with service tickets.

The dishwasher gets buried because everyone is moving too fast to stay organized.

Managers stop managing and start filling holes.

And eventually, the guest feels it.

That’s the part people sometimes miss about staffing.

Every Position Is Connected

A restaurant isn’t a collection of separate jobs.

It’s a team of people whose jobs depend on each other.

If we’re short a host, servers feel it.

If we’re short servers, the host and bartender feel it.

If we’re short a dishwasher, the cooks feel it.

If we’re short cooks, the servers feel it.

And when everyone is stretched thin, the managers feel all of it.

Suddenly, instead of coaching, developing people, talking to guests and watching the business, managers are cooking, running food, bussing tables or washing dishes.

Sometimes that’s exactly what leadership requires.

You jump in.

But you can’t live there.

The Cost Isn’t Just Labor

When you’re understaffed long enough, the consequences start stacking up.

People get tired.

Overtime increases.

Training gets rushed.

Cleaning gets pushed aside.

Prep falls behind.

Food quality becomes harder to maintain.

Ticket times increase.

Guest satisfaction drops.

And your strongest employees start carrying more than their share.

That last one may be the most dangerous.

Your best people will usually step up when you need them. They’ll work the extra shift. They’ll cover another station. They’ll stay late.

But being dependable shouldn’t become a punishment.

You can’t continually solve an understaffing problem on the backs of the people who always say yes.

Eventually, they’re tired too.

Hiring Someone Isn’t the Same as Being Staffed

This is another lesson I’ve learned.

Having names on a schedule doesn’t mean you’re staffed.

You have to recruit them.

Hire them.

Train them.

Coach them.

Give them enough repetitions to become confident.

And then retain them.

A brand-new cook on the schedule doesn’t immediately replace an experienced cook. A new server doesn’t walk onto the floor knowing how to handle a full section.

Building a strong team takes time.

That’s why staffing can’t only become important when you’re already short.

Staffing has to be something we work on before we desperately need it.

Everyone Feels the Difference

There’s also something pretty incredible about what happens when a restaurant finally becomes properly staffed.

You can feel it.

The cooks aren’t just trying to survive the shift—they can focus on execution.

Servers have time to actually connect with their guests.

Hosts can control the door instead of reacting to it.

Bartenders can build their bar business.

Managers can lead instead of constantly plugging holes.

The restaurant gets cleaner.

Training gets better.

Food gets better.

Morale improves.

And the guest gets the experience we intended to give them in the first place.

That’s why staffing isn’t just an HR issue.

It isn’t just a scheduling issue.

And it definitely isn’t just a labor number.

Staffing affects everything.

Because in a restaurant, no position truly works alone.

When one part of the team struggles, we all feel it.

But when every position is strong, trained and supported?

That’s when a restaurant can really become what it’s capable of being.

Two years ago, we opened the doors.

A brand-new restaurant. A brand-new team. A building full of people who were still learning each other’s names, figuring out where everything went, and trying to find our rhythm.

If you’ve ever opened a restaurant, you know there is nothing quite like it.

There’s excitement. There’s adrenaline. There’s exhaustion. There are a million details you thought you planned for—and about a million more you didn’t.

And then, somewhere along the way, it stops feeling like a new restaurant.

It starts feeling like your restaurant.

This weekend, we celebrate two years since opening our doors, and when I look back, I don’t think first about sales numbers, rankings, or reports.

I think about the people.

I think about the ones who were there from the beginning—the OGs who walked into a brand-new building with us and helped create something from nothing.

They showed up through the crazy opening weeks. They learned together. They made mistakes together. They laughed together. They survived shifts that probably felt like they would never end.

And they helped set the tone for everyone who came after them.

We couldn’t have built this without them.

But a restaurant isn’t built once.

It’s built over and over again, every single day.

Every new person who joins the team adds something to it. Every person who trains someone, helps a coworker through a rough shift, picks up a shift when we’re short, makes a guest feel special, or does the right thing when nobody is watching helps build what we have today.

And believe me, the last two years haven’t been perfect.

We’ve had great days and really hard ones.

We’ve celebrated wins. We’ve had setbacks. We’ve been short-staffed. We’ve made mistakes. We’ve learned some lessons the easy way and plenty of them the hard way.

That’s restaurant life.

But we kept showing up.

And I think that’s what makes a restaurant team special.

You spend enough Friday nights in the weeds together, and you become more than people who happen to work in the same building.

You become a team.

Two years may not sound like a long time—especially to someone like me who has spent more than three decades in this business.

But these two years have reminded me of something I’ve learned over and over throughout my career:

The building doesn’t make the restaurant. The people do.

The personalities. The inside jokes. The regulars. The celebrations. The stressful shifts. The people who step up when someone else needs help. The employees who grow into roles they didn’t think they were ready for.

That’s the story of a restaurant.

And that’s what I’m celebrating this weekend.

Not just two years of being open.

Two years of building something together.

To everyone who has been part of our story—whether you’ve been here since day one or you just joined us—thank you.

Thank you for showing up.

Thank you for caring.

Thank you for pushing through the hard shifts and celebrating the good ones.

And to my OGs: there’s something pretty special about looking around two years later and still seeing some of the same faces who were standing beside me when we opened those doors for the very first time.

You helped build this.

And I hope you’re proud of it.

Because I am.

Happy 2nd birthday to our store. I appreciate YOU!

Here’s to everything we’ve built—and everything we’re still becoming.

When people hear the word competition, they often picture people trying to beat each other.

That’s never been my experience.

I’ve been fortunate to be part of a region that has always been close. We celebrate each other’s successes, share ideas freely, and step in to help whenever someone needs it. If a restaurant is struggling, someone is there. If someone has a great idea, they share it. If a team needs support, people show up.

That’s what makes our culture special.

But here’s the part I love…

We also have a little friendly competition.

We compare results. We celebrate wins. We tease each other a little. We all enjoy the challenge.

Not because we want someone else to lose—but because we all want to be better.

We’re all rooting for each other while racing to the top.

That healthy competition pushes us to think differently, try new ideas, and never become comfortable. One restaurant finds a better way to improve food quality, another shares a labor-saving idea, someone else discovers a new way to recognize their team. Before long, everyone benefits.

The competition makes us stronger. The collaboration makes us unstoppable.

I’ve learned that the best leaders don’t keep their best ideas to themselves. They share them because they know that helping someone else succeed doesn’t take anything away from their own success.

In fact, it raises the standard for everyone.

That’s the kind of competition worth having.

The goal isn’t simply to finish first.

The goal is to make the entire team better than it was yesterday.

Because when one of us gets better, we all get better.

The best teams compete with each other, not against each other.

One of the most important things a leader can do is make people feel seen.

Everyone notices when someone makes a mistake. That’s easy.

The better leaders notice when someone is doing the right thing—especially when no one else is watching.

Did someone clean something that wasn’t their responsibility? Did a cook quietly jump in to help another station? Did a server stay late to help a teammate without being asked? Did someone greet every guest with genuine enthusiasm, even on a difficult day?

Those moments matter.

Recognition doesn’t have to be expensive. It doesn’t require a bonus or a formal award. Sometimes it’s as simple as saying, “I saw what you did today, and I appreciate it.”

Never underestimate the power of those words.

Early in my career, I worked for a mentor who understood this better than anyone I’ve ever known.

He made it a point to say hello and goodbye to every single employee every day. At first, I thought he was just being friendly. Years later, I realized he was doing much more than that.

He was checking in.

He was reading the room. He was paying attention to our energy, our attitude, and whether we were mentally ready for the shift ahead. He understood that leadership starts long before the first guest walks through the door.

At the end of the night, he’d walk the cook line, thank every person for their work, and let them know they were appreciated. During the shift, he never missed an opportunity to tell a cook their food looked great or celebrate a compliment a server received from a guest.

He looked for reasons to recognize people.

That lesson has stayed with me for over 30 years.

As leaders, we spend a lot of time correcting behaviors because that’s part of our job. But if the only time people hear from us is when they’ve done something wrong, they’ll start believing that’s all we notice.

Instead, make it a habit to catch people doing something right.

One of the best leadership habits I’ve developed is walking through the restaurant looking for opportunities to recognize people. Not because it’s on a checklist, but because people deserve to know their effort matters.

The interesting thing about recognition is that it spreads.

When one person is recognized for living the culture, others notice. They begin to understand what excellence looks like. They want to be part of it. Before long, recognition becomes contagious—and so does the behavior that earned it.

The truth is, most people don’t come to work hoping to be perfect.

They come to work hoping that what they do matters.

As leaders, we have the opportunity to remind them that it does.

Find someone doing the right thing when no one is looking.

You never know how much one sincere compliment, one thank you, or one moment of recognition might mean to someone.

People will work for a paycheck. But they’ll give their best for a leader who makes them feel seen.

I’ve always wondered what makes me… me.

People who know me know I’m always thinking. My mind rarely shuts off. I’m constantly analyzing conversations, decisions, situations, and even myself. I replay things I could have done differently, imagine possibilities that haven’t happened yet, and ask myself, “How can this be better?”

My mind is always searching for answers, looking for meaning, and trying to connect the dots.

For a long time, I thought everyone thought this way. I’ve since realized they don’t.

Some people are content with the way things are.

I’ve never been wired that way.

I think that’s also why I’ve always considered myself an introvert.

People are often surprised when I say that because I’ve spent my career leading teams, speaking in front of groups, coaching hundreds of employees, and running busy restaurants. But being comfortable leading people isn’t the same as needing to be around people.

I recharge in the quiet.

Some of my best thinking happens on a walk, driving by myself, working out, or simply sitting with my thoughts. Solitude isn’t lonely to me—it’s where my mind gets to explore.

I love reading self-improvement and motivational books—not because I have everything figured out, but because I genuinely enjoy learning. I’m fascinated by new ideas, different perspectives, and understanding why people do what they do. If there’s a documentary about human behavior, business, psychology, leadership, health, or someone’s extraordinary life story, I’m probably watching it.

I’ve always been a student of people.

I find myself analyzing personalities, motivations, habits, and interactions—not to judge, but to understand. What drives someone? What holds them back? Why do two people respond so differently to the same situation?

After 31 years of leading people, I’ve realized no two people are motivated the same way. Understanding what helps someone believe in themselves, take a chance, or grow into something they never thought possible is what keeps me curious.

The funny thing is, I don’t just analyze other people.

I analyze myself too.

I ask:

Why do I think the way I do?

What could I do better?

What habits are helping me grow—and which ones are holding me back?

I don’t think that process ever ends.

Maybe that’s why I’ve always loved coaching people.

Maybe that’s why I became a nutrition coach.

And maybe that’s why I started writing.

Writing has become an outlet for a mind that’s always moving.

It’s where I organize the thoughts bouncing around in my head, make sense of the experiences that shaped me, and slow down enough to understand what I’m really thinking.

If something I write helps someone feel understood, challenges them to think differently, or encourages them to become a better version of themselves, then all that overthinking has a purpose.

Lately, as I’ve been writing more and sharing more of myself, I’ve realized curiosity has quietly been the thread running through my entire life.

I’ve spent years helping other people discover what they’re capable of.

Now I’m asking myself the same question.

Can I grow into something I never thought I could?

Can I become more than the person I’ve always been?

Can I keep learning, evolving, and finding new purpose?

I hope the answer is always yes.

Maybe that’s the point.

Not to have all the answers.

But to never stop asking the questions.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Great leadership isn’t about managing everyone the same way—it’s about managing each person the way they need to be led.

Some employees are driven by recognition. Others are motivated by money. Some crave responsibility. Others simply want to know they’re appreciated. Some need constant coaching. Others just need you to trust them and get out of their way. And almost everyone craves one thing: clear direction. People want to know what’s expected of them, where they’re headed, and how they can be successful.

The job isn’t to change people into who we want them to be.

The job is to figure out what makes them tick.

Every employee comes with a different instruction manual. Great leaders take the time to read it.

Leadership starts with curiosity. Watch people. Listen to them. Learn what excites them, what frustrates them, what they’re afraid of, and what they’re capable of. The better you understand someone, the better you can lead them.

Ironically, it doesn’t stop there.

Managers need to learn their employees.

Employees learn their managers too.

Your team may not realize they’re doing it, but they are constantly figuring you out. They learn what motivates you, what stresses you, what you’re passionate about, and what earns your trust. They learn the best way to communicate with you because they want to be successful too.

The strongest working relationships happen when both sides take the time to understand each other.

Leadership isn’t a one-way street.

It’s a partnership built on communication, trust, and understanding.

One employee may need encouragement.

Another may need accountability.

One may need detailed direction.

Another may simply need an opportunity.

If you try to lead them all exactly the same, you’ll reach very few of them.

The best leaders are flexible without compromising their standards. Expectations stay the same, but the approach changes.

That’s the difference.

People don’t all learn the same.

They don’t communicate the same.

They don’t respond to feedback the same.

So why would we manage them the same?

The day I stopped trying to fit everyone into the same leadership box was the day I became a better leader.

Leadership isn’t about treating everyone equally. It’s about leading everyone effectively. And sometimes, that means leading each person differently.

That’s not just good management. That’s great leadership.

One question has been on my mind lately:

What makes someone want to follow in your footsteps?

Not because they have to.

Because they want to.

Recently, I had the opportunity to sit around a table with three Managing Partners that I had developed over the years. As I looked around the room, I couldn’t help but think back to when each of them was just beginning their journey. They were learning the business, asking questions, taking on new challenges, and paying attention.

Somewhere along the way, they decided leadership was something they wanted.

That wasn’t because I told them they should become a Managing Partner.

It was because they saw a career they believed was worth pursuing.

That moment made me realize something.

As leaders, we’re always developing people—even when we don’t realize it. Every shift, every conversation, every decision is showing someone what leadership looks like.

The question is…

Does it look like something they’d want for themselves?

Leadership isn’t easy. There are long hours, difficult conversations, tough decisions, and plenty of days when the weight of responsibility feels heavy.

But if all your team ever sees is stress, frustration, and negativity, why would they want your job?

People don’t follow titles.

They follow examples.

They notice how you handle pressure. They notice whether you coach or criticize. They notice if you celebrate wins, own mistakes, and step in when your team needs you.

They’re quietly deciding whether they can see themselves becoming that leader someday.

Over the past two years, I’ve promoted three hourly employees into management. Looking back, I don’t think it happened because I convinced them to take the next step.

I think it happened because they could picture themselves there.

That’s something we don’t talk about enough when it comes to succession planning.

Keeping your management team staffed doesn’t begin when someone gives notice. It begins months—and often years—before there’s ever an opening.

It begins by creating leaders worth following.

The best leaders don’t just fill management positions.

They inspire people to want them.

Your future leaders are already watching.

They’re deciding whether leadership looks rewarding, whether growth is possible, and whether they can build a career they’re proud of.

So here’s the question I would leave every leader with:

If someone on your team watched the way you lead every day, would they want to become you?

Because when the answer is yes, you’re doing more than developing people.

YOU ARE BUILDING YOUR LEGACY.

This week was one of those moments.

I had the privilege of joining nearly 600 Outback Steakhouse Managing Partners and our incredible Home Office support team for our annual Leadership Summit. For a few days, we stepped away from the day-to-day demands of running restaurants to focus on something bigger—our people, our business, our goals, and the future of the brand.

In the restaurant business, it’s easy to become consumed by the next shift, the next delivery, the next staffing challenge, or the next guest walking through the door. Rarely do we get the opportunity to pause, reflect, and think about where we’ve been and where we’re going.

That’s what this week was all about.

One of the highlights for me was hearing Outback co-founder Tim Gannon share stories about the early days of building Outback Steakhouse. I’ve had the privilege of meeting Tim before, but this time I was especially honored to have him sign his new book, Bloomin’ Adventures.

Listening to him reminded me that every successful company starts with an idea, but it survives because of people. People willing to take risks. People willing to work hard. People who believe in something bigger than themselves.

It also made me think about my own journey.

Thirty-one years ago, I never imagined I’d still be here. I certainly never imagined the experiences this career would give me—the people I’ve met, the leaders who’ve challenged me, the teams I’ve had the privilege to develop, and the lessons that have shaped not only my career but who I am as a person.

One of the things that impressed me most this week was hearing from our President, Pat Hafner. Leadership isn’t just about strategy or financial results. It’s about creating belief.

Pat has a way of making you believe in the future. His passion for our people, his vision for where we’re headed, and his genuine appreciation for those of us leading restaurants every day are motivating. We’re fortunate to have a leader who communicates with clarity, leads with purpose, and reminds us that our people will always be our greatest strength.

After 31 years, you might think you’ve seen it all.

The truth is, the longer I lead, the more I realize there’s always something new to learn. Another perspective to hear. Another relationship to build. Another opportunity to grow.

That’s one of the reasons I’ve stayed with this company for so long. Outback has never stopped investing in its people. It continues to challenge us to become better leaders, better teammates, and better versions of ourselves.

As I flew home, I wasn’t thinking about presentations or meeting notes.

I was thinking about people.

The founders who built something special.

The leaders who continue to move it forward.

The hundreds of Managing Partners who show up every day with the same purpose—to take care of their teams and create great experiences for every guest who walks through our doors.

I’m grateful to be one of them.

Thirty-one years later, I’m still learning.

And if this week reminded me of anything, it’s this:

The best leaders never stop being students.

People often use the words manager and leader as if they mean the same thing.

They don’t.

A manager makes sure the schedule is written, the numbers are right, the inventory is counted, and the doors open on time. Those things are essential. Every successful business needs great management.

But leadership is different.

Leadership is what happens when an employee is struggling and you take the time to coach instead of criticize.

It’s believing in someone before they believe in themselves.

It’s holding people accountable because you care about their growth, not because you enjoy pointing out mistakes.

Managers focus on tasks.

Leaders focus on people.

A manager asks, “Did the job get done?”

A leader asks, “Did my team have what they needed to succeed?”

A manager can tell someone what to do.

A leader inspires people to want to do it.

The best leaders understand that their title doesn’t earn respect—their actions do. They know that every conversation, every decision, and every example they set is teaching their team what the culture really is.

I’ve spent more than 30 years in the restaurant business, and I’ve learned that people rarely remember the labor percentage on a Tuesday afternoon or what the sales were on a random Friday night.

But they remember how you made them feel.

They remember whether you believed in them.

They remember whether you stood beside them when things got hard.

The strongest businesses have great managers.

The greatest businesses have leaders who create more leaders.

And that’s the difference.

Management keeps the operation running.
Leadership changes the people who run it.