Adaptation. Resilience. Gritellence.

Throughout my life, one thing I’ve learned for sure is this: nothing has ever come easily for me. I don’t say that with bitterness—it’s just the truth. I wasn’t the fastest learner. I wasn’t the one people naturally gravitated toward and said, “That person’s got it.” I wasn’t labeled gifted. I didn’t stand out in a room full of talent. In fact, for most of my journey, I felt like I was running behind—trying to catch up to some invisible standard I couldn’t quite define.

But somehow, I made it here. Not because I had some hidden genius waiting to be discovered. Not because I was in the right place at the right time. I made it here because I didn’t stop. Because I kept moving, adapting, and rebuilding myself every time something knocked me down. Because even when I didn’t believe in myself, something deeper inside me did.

There are three traits I carry that have shaped me more than any education, title, or skillset ever could: adaptation, resilience, and what I call gritellence—a mix of grit and intelligence, the kind you earn by struggling through things the hard way.

Adaptation, for me, isn’t about being flexible for the sake of it. It’s the ability to adjust with intention. To recognize when something isn’t working, and not take it personally. To change without losing your sense of self. In this industry—especially in leadership—things shift constantly. Projects evolve. People come and go. Priorities flip overnight. And if you can’t adapt without becoming bitter or defensive, the weight of it will break you. I know that because I’ve felt it pressing down on me more times than I can count.

Resilience is the one I had to fight hardest to build. I’ve been rejected. I’ve been overlooked. I’ve poured everything into work that was dismissed in a single sentence. I’ve failed publicly and privately. I’ve had moments where I hated everything I made—where I wondered if I’d reached the limit of what I was capable of. And yet, I always came back. Maybe not stronger right away—but a little clearer, a little sharper. It’s never been a clean process. But it’s been a real one.

As for gritellence—this idea of persistent effort combined with strategic reflection—that’s where I’ve found the most growth. It’s easy to glorify grit as pushing through no matter what. But grit without awareness just burns you out. What changed everything for me was learning to pause in the middle of chaos and ask: Why did this break? What am I missing? How do I move smarter next time? That’s not something I learned in a workshop. That came from failing—again and again—and being honest about it.

When I was younger, I wanted to be great so badly that I skipped over the idea of “good enough.” I didn’t want to be seen as promising—I wanted to be there already. But that ambition came at a cost. I failed more than most people around me. I pushed myself past the line of burnout without even knowing what burnout was. I saw peers move forward while I felt like I was stuck. And still—I kept showing up.

I practiced not just to improve, but to understand. I replayed my choices, analyzed my weaknesses, dissected why things didn’t work. And slowly, that process became instinct. It became the framework I use now—not just for my own growth, but in how I lead teams, give feedback, and support others.

Even now, I don’t see myself as someone who’s “made it.” I have a lot left to learn. I still have bad days. I still make mistakes. I still battle doubt. But the difference now is—I don’t stay down for long. I recover faster. I move clearer. Not because I’m more talented, but because I’ve built a rhythm of reflection and adjustment that keeps me grounded when things shake.

And things do shake. They always will. The industry changes. Trends shift. Leadership expectations evolve. And through it all, what’s saved me has never been raw skill or charm—it’s been the habits I’ve built, the values I hold, and the way I choose to respond when things get hard.

There are so many people out there who are more naturally talented than I am. That’s never been a secret. But I’ve never let that stop me. Because I know what I do have. I have the ability to change, to stand back up, and to keep growing. And more importantly, I have the patience to do it again tomorrow.

I don’t take any of this for granted. The opportunities, the people I’ve worked with, the platforms I’ve been given—none of it feels owed to me. I’ve earned it in the most imperfect way: by staying consistent, being brutally honest with myself, and refusing to let temporary failure become permanent identity.

So if you ask me who I am—I’m not the person who rose because things came easily. I’m the person who rose despite how hard it was. And I’m still rising. Quietly. Intentionally. Not to prove anything to anyone—but to stay aligned with the part of me that refuses to settle.

That’s who I am. And that’s who I plan to keep becoming.