Last year, I stepped into a journey I wasn’t sure, at one time, was in my future. I became a doctoral student.

It’s the first time I’m writing about it, not because it hasn’t mattered, but because I hadn’t yet given myself permission to name it. That first semester was filled with internal questions. How would I manage being a mother, a wife, a daughter, a district leader, an educator, a friend, and all the roles we hold as human beings while taking on something this big? I also wondered where my weekly writing would fit in, especially during a year already full of meaningful personal and professional priorities. Still, I am committed to returning to this space each week to reflect on what I am learning.

But I am, at my core, a learner and a doer.

And I’ve learned over time, especially in the last several years that I don’t grow when I’m too comfortable. Growth, for me, lives in stretch spaces. In challenges. In saying yes to things that feel just slightly out of reach. When I look back, very few of the things I’m most proud of were ever part of a clearly defined path. The people I’ve met, the environments I’ve landed in, the work I’ve been trusted to do, all of it has shown me that we are capable of more than we imagine.

In the book, Because of a Teacher, I shared a quote from Simon Sinek’s The Infinite Game that still stays with me: “Faith is knowing that you’re on a team even if you don’t know who the players are.”

It is a reminder that there are people and spaces we are meant to be part of, even if we have not arrived there yet.

That idea, that success often hinges on trying again, on trusting forward motion has guided me more times than I can count. What feels scary today can become a source of pride tomorrow. And as Jenny Wood writes in Wild Courage, “Err on the side of action. Perfect is impossible.”

This week, that belief was tested.

I was paired with a classmate I had never met to complete a major project. We needed to collaborate closely, communicate clearly, and bring something meaningful to life, together. I felt nervous. Hesitant. Unsure.

And then she showed up.

She made herself accessible. She leaned in. And after hours of work, much of it moving quickly, she named something essential that I couldn’t see because I was too close to it. That moment stopped me. I realized I had let my fear of working with someone unfamiliar shape my expectations. What began as parallel work became true collaboration and the project was better because of it.

I was reminded of a sentiment I shared in my book, The Leader Inside: Every experience you will ever have leads to the type of educator you wish to become. This experience, small as it may seem, reshaped how I approached the work and the person beside me.

The next morning, I read an excerpt from Brianna Wiest’s The Pivot Year that said, “Nothing feels all the way right in the beginning, because nothing is completely familiar in the beginning.” This deeply resonated with me as I spent time doing a project with someone I didn’t know that took up a good portion of my Saturday. Some people who cross your path are a lesson, not a destination. We can learn from people who step into our lives and experiences that challenge us and make us feel nervous.

This time last year, I wasn’t sure I could do this. I wasn’t sure how it would fit, who I would become in the process, or what I might have to let go of along the way. What I am learning is that growth rarely arrives fully formed. It unfolds through moments of uncertainty, through people we do not yet know, and through experiences that stretch us in ways we do not expect.

Nothing feels all the way right in the beginning.

And still, we begin.

You are capable of more than you imagine.

Three Actionable Ideas for Leaders and Educators

1. Name the beginning.
   Normalize uncertainty—yours and others’. When we acknowledge that “nothing feels all the way right at first,” we create space for learning instead of perfection.
   
2. Lean into unfamiliar collaboration.
   Growth often comes from working with people outside our comfort circle. Enter those spaces with curiosity instead of assumptions and notice what becomes possible.
   
3. Choose action over readiness.
   You don’t need clarity to begin. Forward motion builds confidence. Start where you are, trust that the learning will meet you there, and adjust as you go.