Two weeks at the beach
I’m home at the beach—in the house where I grew up—for two weeks.
The last time I was here visiting my family was December. I had just made the decision with our leadership team to move on from cleaning, and I wasn’t really ready to talk about it with anyone else. I shared very little with my parents and sister because I was still processing it all myself, and I knew I had to make sure it was what I really wanted before hearing feedback from others. When I reflect on that December trip, I spent a lot of my time in silence. I was with my family, but my mind and heart were elsewhere, and I knew they could feel that, too. The weight of the decision felt so huge. I either had trouble sleeping, or I slept too much. I took many long walks on the beach by myself, and in those walks, I gained clarity. I left the beach knowing that I would announce the Student Maid transition after the New Year, which meant that I boarded a plane back to Houston with lots of fear and lots of excitement about what the coming months would hold. I left with so much uncertainty while still being certain about one thing: I was following my heart.
Before December, the last time I came home to the beach was last summer. After quarantining for three months in Gainesville, my sister and I decided to be at home with our parents for my mom’s birthday in June, and we ended up staying for two months. At that time, moving away from cleaning wasn’t even a thought in my mind. At that time, my thoughts were focused on one thing: Surviving—and doing our best to thrive in—this pandemic.
I will never forget those two months at the beach. On the one hand, Student Maid had just reopened from our temporary closure, and we were building the business back up after our revenue dropped nearly 40%. And on the other, the speaking and leadership development business had more than doubled overnight. A typical week looked like a mix of applying for grants and funding to keep our people paid and employed; leading team meetings and making decisions about how to navigate completely uncharted territory; and speaking and helping other teams three or four times a day. It was in those two months that we launched our coaching groups out of a desire to bring people together during a time when connection mattered more than ever, and we quickly went from hosting one monthly group to five.
It was also during those two months at the beach that I hit burnout. I spent every day working, including weekends and evenings, and I was hardly present with my family. I felt an immense pressure to keep our businesses afloat and wanted to help as many people as I possibly could during what I knew was a challenging time for leaders, organizations, and teams.
I remember the day when it all really hit me: It was a Saturday, and my sister had planned a beautiful outdoor dinner for us by the pool for no other reason than “just because.” She spent all day cooking and preparing. She decorated the outdoor dining table with china from my parents’ wedding, created a beautiful playlist, and even found childhood board games to play together. My parents were so excited as they helped her prepare for this amazing day and amazing meal, and where was I? I was inside with my computer, working.
I remember specifically what I was working on: a new bonus structure for our company. I had recognized that our team might feel disconnected from the financial performance of the company and that I needed to find a way to connect the dots so that we could be more aligned as a team. In addition to that, everyone was working beyond full capacity to help keep us afloat, and I wanted to make sure that they were being financially rewarded for that. My hunch was confirmed when I received this same feedback from the team in a quarterly review we’d had the week prior—the same review where I was personally given feedback that I was coming on “intense” and that my intensity was putting pressure on others to match it. And yet, here I was, not even a week after being given that feedback, intensely throwing myself into creating a whole new bonus structure on a Saturday when no one asked for or expected it to happen so quickly.
It all came from a good place, of course. A place of wanting to take care of our people, and a place of wanting to make things better when we acknowledge that something isn’t working the best that it can. What I didn’t realize at that moment on that Saturday is that I was losing sight of what was most important. I might have been focused on solving a challenge in our company, but I was losing sight of how I was showing up as a person and as a leader. To my team, I was intense, extreme, and pressured. To my family, I was in another world, not present, not participating in moments like our fun, just-because, special Saturday dinner.
As it usually happens, it all came to a head: My parents and sister had to literally peel me away from my computer to have a meal with them, and as soon as the meal was over, I went straight back to my laptop to continue working on the bonus structure. I didn’t offer to help them clean the dishes. I didn’t participate in the board games. And finally, they couldn’t take it anymore. My sister was furious with me, rightfully so, and practically closed my laptop in order to get my attention and hold up the much-needed mirror so that I could see how I was impacting those I love.
What followed was a lot of introspection. A lot less working in the evenings and on the weekends. Learning to say “no” and honor my boundaries more. Running on the beach, long walks, and prioritizing my health. Jumping in the pool during a break in my workday with my sister for no other reason than it sounded fun. Present meals with my family. Owning the actions that led to my “intensity” as a leader and making commitments to our team to show up differently. And that’s when I also began to question what I really wanted in my life: what I really wanted to work toward, the impact I really wanted to make . . . the person I really wanted to be. It was that summer trip to the beach where I began to explore my heart and all that she was holding inside.
And now, here I am, sitting in the same chair on our deck where I sat for many moments last year. I can’t help but reflect and think about all that has changed. The Student Maid transition has taken place. Our leadership business is growing more than it ever has. I’m more at peace in my heart than I’ve ever been. More present in my life than I’ve ever been. Still working a lot, but less and more effectively. Loving my job. Playing more than I ever have. Disconnecting more than I ever have. Enjoying “just because” moments more than I ever have. Soaking up the time with my parents and sister, knowing that nothing is more important. Harnessing my superpowers as a leader while also making sure I’m not coming on too strong or putting unnecessary pressure on others. Asking for feedback constantly. Trying to show up every day better than I did the day before.
And so, I guess, I wrote this blog post to acknowledge growth. I want to acknowledge the places—like the beach, for me—that bring us back to ourselves. The places that come along with memories of pain, of clarity, of growth, of peace. The places where we rediscover who we are. The places that inspire us to be better. What’s that place for you? How much have you grown since this time last year? I bet if you take some time to really think about it, you’ll be proud of the lessons you’ve learned during the pain you’ve endured, the clarity you now have that you didn’t have before, and the way you are living your life and prioritizing what matters.
I’m proud of you. I’m proud of me. I’m proud of us.
Here’s to two weeks at the beach with lots of meaningful work, even more family time, and remembering not to lose sight of what matters most.
Hugs through the screen,
Kristen
PS: I’m excited to introduce a new format for our weekly LIVE show, which takes place this Wednesday (and every Wednesday!) at 11 a.m. ET! I’ll be interviewing some of my most favorite inspiring humans and leaders. Every week, there will be a surprise guest (or guests), and you never know who! The one thing you can always count on is that it'll get real. Join us for REAL TALK every Wednesday by registering here: https://bit.ly/3kWe2kT. Hope to see you there!
