When You’ve Been Piloting Someone Else’s Ship

This week, I sat down to write and felt like nothing important was coming.
But beneath that quiet resistance was a realization I had been avoiding:

For most of my life, I was piloting someone else’s ship.

I wasn’t just an executive — I was a strategist, a builder, a researcher, and honestly, a coach long before I ever used that word. People came to me for clarity. I carried their questions, their challenges, their hopes. I helped them navigate decisions that shaped entire teams and seasons.

But somewhere along the way, I forgot something vital:

None of that made the ship mine.

For decades, I helped steer a mission larger than myself. I’m grateful for that season — it forged me, grew me, and gave me meaningful work. But eventually I realized something I had never named:

I had never actually learned to pilot my own ship.

For decades, I helped steer a mission larger than myself. I’m grateful for that season — it forged me, grew me, and gave me meaningful work. But eventually I realized something I had never named:

When the Role No Longer Fits

Near the end of my time there, leadership shifted, and the company restructured in a way that no longer matched the level or breadth of leadership I had been operating in for years. Nothing malicious — just a season where the fit changed.

And here’s the part I didn’t see clearly at the time:

I had coaches — some of the best.
At one point, the company invested $1,500 a month in my coaching and peer advisory. But even great coaching and advice can only take you so far when the work itself no longer reflects the story you’re meant to be living.

The coaching helped me lead the company better —
but it didn’t help me see my next steps.

Looking back, the truth is simple:

I had been piloting someone else’s ship so long that I didn’t know how to pilot my own — and I didn’t have a coach who saw my story yet.

The People Who Are Piloting Their Own Ships

Many people today are coached.
They’re supported, stretched, encouraged, and guided. They have someone in their corner helping them interpret their seasons and move toward their calling.

And then there are others — many others — who don’t have that.

People who feel a quiet stirring toward something more.
People who want to do good for the people who matter,
but feel boxed in by expectations, roles, or environments that don’t fit anymore.

People who are capable, gifted, and ready…
but still piloting someone else’s ship.

If that’s you, I understand it — because for a long time, it was me too.

You can outgrow a story long before you know how to write the next one.
You can be loyal long after a season has changed.
You can be strong and still not feel free.

⭐ A Hidden Door You Haven’t Seen Yet

If any of this resonates, here’s what I want you to know:

You are not stuck — you’re simply not fully seen yet.

There is always a hidden door.
Sometimes it’s small.
Sometimes it’s subtle.
Sometimes it’s disguised as a conversation you didn’t know you needed.

And sometimes it takes someone outside your story to help you find it.

⭐ Your Invitation

If you’re feeling boxed-in, underused, or unsure of the path that is actually yours,
there is always a hidden door — and sometimes it takes another person to help you see it.

If you’re open to it, I’ll help you look for yours.

No risk.
No pressure.
Just one completely confidential conversation between you and me.

You don’t have to pilot someone else’s ship forever.
Sometimes the first step toward your own is simply being willing to talk about it.