Coaching Myself Back to Human: The Tools I Used to Return to Myself

Leadership isn’t proven in perfection ... it’s revealed in how we return to ourselves after we break.

And last Friday, I broke.

Not publicly in some dramatic explosion.
Not in a way that made headlines.
But internally, emotionally, spiritually I hit a wall.

What’s humbling is that just one day earlier, I had posted about leadership not being reactive.

Then exhaustion, criticism, emotional overload, and one difficult phone call collided at the exact wrong moment.

And suddenly the coach became the student again.

What this experience reminded me is that emotional intelligence is not about never reacting. It’s about learning how to recognize when you’ve emotionally left the room and finding your way back to yourself with honesty, accountability, and grace.

So how did I coach myself back to human?

Here are the tools that helped me.

1. I Stopped Trying to Be “The Strong One”

One of the coaching tools I constantly teach and had to remind myself of this week is the importance of self-awareness and energy management.

As an introvert, one of the most important things I can do is intentionally set aside time for me.

Quiet time.
Recovery time.
Processing time.
Rest.

But somewhere in the middle of all the leadership responsibilities, the fundraising events, the emotional labor, the networking, and the constant pouring into others… I stopped pouring back into myself.

One of the biggest lies leaders tell themselves is:
“I need to hold it together for everyone else.”

But eventually, emotional suppression becomes emotional exhaustion.

I had been carrying:
• conflict resolution
• organizational pressure
• community expectations
• nonstop events
• leadership visibility
• relationship management
• criticism
• emotional labor

And I never stopped long enough to ask:
“Am I okay?”

Coaching myself back to human started with honesty.

Not polished honesty.
Not leadership statement honesty.
Real honesty.

“I am overwhelmed.”
“I am exhausted.”
“I am hurt.”
“I do not have the emotional capacity I normally do.”

That awareness mattered.

Because you cannot regulate what you refuse to acknowledge.

2. I Remembered My Mom’s Rule

My mom has always said:

“When you’re exhausted, you need to rest. You don’t need to respond to the email. You don’t need to pick up the phone. What you need to do is rest.”

Whew.

That lesson hit differently this week.

Because exhaustion distorts perspective.

When we are depleted:
• criticism feels sharper
• conflict feels heavier
• emotions feel louder
• conversations feel more threatening than they are

And instead of resting, I reacted.

I answered emotionally when I should have paused spiritually.

One of the greatest coaching tools we can learn is this:

Not every emotion deserves immediate action.

Sometimes wisdom looks like silence.
Sometimes leadership looks like waiting.
Sometimes maturity looks like saying:

“I will revisit this conversation when I have rested.”

3. I Practiced Accountability Without Self Destruction

This part matters deeply to me.

I apologized to the people impacted by my emotional reaction.

Not because I’m weak.
Not because I’m taking ownership of everyone else’s behavior.
But because accountability is part of integrity.

I had to own the reality that my reaction became the catalyst for unnecessary confusion and emotional ripple effects.

But I also had to coach myself not to spiral into shame.

And there is a difference.

Healthy accountability says:

“I made a mistake.”

Toxic shame says:

“I am the mistake.”

Those are not the same thing.

As leaders, we have to learn how to take responsibility without emotionally crucifying ourselves in the process.

And you know what?

My beautiful friend sent me this message:

“Everything is good. Don’t worry. Everything will be okay and all of us have our moments. Let’s allow it to bring ourselves closer. Thank you for working it out for me. But I don’t feel like you need to apologize for having a human reaction.”

Wow.

Just typing those words makes me cry.

Why?

Because that was grace.

That was someone choosing compassion over condemnation.
That was someone loving me in the middle of my humanity instead of requiring perfection from me.

And honestly, I think that’s part of the lesson too.

Sometimes the people around us are far more willing to give us grace than we are willing to give ourselves.

As leaders, we often extend understanding to everyone except ourselves.

But healing begins when we finally believe we are worthy of the same compassion we so freely give away.

That moment reminded me that accountability and grace can exist together.

You can own your reaction and still deserve kindness.
You can apologize and still be loved.
You can have a hard moment and still be a good leader.

And maybe that’s what being human really is.

4. I Assumed Good Intentions

This was probably the hardest lesson.

Because when you feel hurt, exposed, or criticized, it’s easy to assign malicious intent to everyone involved.

But after sitting with the situation, I realized something important:

Not everyone who mishandles a moment is trying to harm you.

Sometimes people are simply imperfect humans trying to navigate difficult situations with limited tools.

The friend involved in my vulnerable conversation was not trying to betray me.

She was concerned.
She cared.
She was trying to seek guidance in a moment that felt heavy.

That realization softened me.

And honestly?

It healed something in me too.

One of the greatest emotional intelligence skills we can develop is learning to pause long enough to ask:

“Am I reacting to facts… or to fear?”

5. I Returned to My Identity

At the core of all of this was one final truth:

I had forgotten whose I am.

When criticism gets loud…
When exhaustion takes over…
When leadership pressure builds…
When emotions crack open…

It becomes very easy to root your identity in people’s opinions.  For me, as a Christian, I needed to remember that I am rooted in God’s truth.

So, I had to come back to center.

I am not one emotional moment.
I am not whispers.
I am not gossip.
I am not exhaustion.
I am not failure.

I am a child of God.

Still growing.
Still learning.
Still healing.
Still leading.
Still human.

And maybe that’s the real lesson.

Leadership is not about becoming superhuman.

It’s about learning how to stay human without losing yourself in the process.

Reflection Questions for Leaders

• Where am I emotionally exhausted but pretending I’m okay?
• Have I confused leadership with emotional self-sacrifice?
• Am I reacting from truth or from depletion?
• What conversations need rest before response?
• Where do I need accountability instead of shame?
• Have I assumed malicious intent where there may only be misunderstanding?
• What practices help me return to myself?

Final Reminder

Leadership isn’t proven in perfection.  It’s revealed in how we return to ourselves after we break.

Happy Thursday lovely leaders,

-srt

Tools Referenced in This Coaching Reflection

Emotional Intelligence

• Self awareness
• Emotional regulation
• Reflective processing
• Accountability practices
• Perspective taking
• Assuming good intentions

Leadership Coaching Tools

• Pause before response
• Rest as a leadership strategy
• Identity grounding
• Conflict reflection
• Self coaching questions
• Repair conversations
• Ownership without shame

Personal Leadership Practices

• Quiet time for introverts
• Emotional capacity awareness
• Boundary recognition
• Spiritual grounding
• Rest and recovery
• Journaling and reflection

#Leadership #LeadershipDevelopment #EmotionalIntelligence #SelfAwareness #AuthenticLeadership #WomenInLeadership #NonprofitLeadership #FaithAndLeadership #GrowthMindset #Accountability #PersonalGrowth #HealingJourney #HumanCenteredLeadership #ExecutiveCoaching #LeadershipCoach #MindsetShift #EmotionalWellness #MentalHealthAwareness #RestIsProductive #SelfCompassion #AssumeGoodIntentions #PurposeDrivenLeadership #ResilientLeadership #BurnoutRecovery #GraceAndGrowth #ChristianLeadership #IdentityInChrist #StillHuman #ReflectiveLeadership #MondayMotivation #ThursdayThoughts

Remembering Whose I Am

Today, I’m in the house of the Lord remembering whose I am.

I am a child of God.

And honestly? These past three weeks have been a doozy.

I think sometimes people forget that even the strongest leaders are still human. Even the best leaders, when under pressure, under attack, under criticism, can break. We carry vision, responsibility, and the emotional weight of so many people. We coach. We guide. We encourage. We hold the line for others. But sometimes, quietly and privately, we hit our own breaking point.

Friday night, I hit mine.

Over the last several weeks, we were planning a major fundraiser. There were obstacles everywhere. There were difficult conversations, unhealthy communication patterns, and a lot of emotional labor involved in coaching people through conflict while still trying to move the mission forward. At the same time, I’ve been on what feels like a nonstop circuit of fundraisers, events, networking opportunities, and community support efforts.

Part of that is because I genuinely believe in showing up for others.

I’ve wanted to support the nonprofits who supported me during my Lincoln Area Chamber of Commerce board position journey. I’ve wanted to pour back into the organizations and people who have poured into my little nonprofit. I’ve wanted to build bridges, create partnerships, and continue proving that small organizations can still make a meaningful impact.

But somewhere in the middle of all of that, something shifted in me.

I started listening to criticism.

Not constructive criticism. Not the kind that helps you grow stronger or wiser. I’m talking about the kind that comes through third parties. The kind that arrives wrapped in gossip, whispers, and “well, people are saying…” conversations.

Usually, when criticism comes to me about others, I can coach through it. I can redirect it. I can help people see the humanity and value in the person they’re misunderstanding. I remind people about the importance of assuming good intentions.

But this time, the criticism was about me.

And this Gemini cracked.

On my way to yet another fundraiser, I received a phone call that completely overwhelmed me emotionally. And in one raw, exhausted, deeply human moment, my brain simply said:

“I don’t think I want to do this anymore.”

“I think I need to step back.”

“I think I may need to resign.”

Those words were intended for one person. One private moment. One vulnerable conversation.

But words travel.

And before I knew it, my very raw and real human experience had been shared far beyond where I intended it to go.

But I also have to be accountable.

I said the words.

And in my frustration, I unfairly placed weight on my friend when she was simply the messenger trying to navigate a difficult moment with care and concern.

That part matters to me.

Because leadership means owning your humanity just as much as owning your victories.

This week, I had to sit down and coach myself.

Not as a leader.
Not as a nonprofit founder.
Not as someone trying to hold everything together for everybody else.

But as a human being.

After everything unfolded from my emotional outburst, I spent a lot of time reflecting on what actually happened underneath the surface. And the biggest lesson I walked away with was this:

Exhaustion and leadership do not mix well.

My mom has always said something that I now realize is wisdom far beyond simple self-care:

“When you’re exhausted, you need to rest. You don’t need to respond to the email. You don’t need to pick up the phone. What you need to do is rest.”

And honestly?

I forgot that.

I forgot that exhaustion changes how we hear things.
I forgot that emotional depletion lowers our emotional intelligence.
I forgot that when your spirit and mind are already overloaded, one more emotionally charged conversation can feel heavier than it actually is.

What I should have done was pause.

I should have rested.
I should have waited.
I should have allowed myself time before reacting emotionally.

I should have said:
“You know what? Let me process this. I’ll talk directly to that person later.”

Had I done that, so much unnecessary drama could have been avoided.

And I have to own that.

Because while my feelings were real, my reaction became the catalyst for confusion, hurt, and conversations that did not need to unfold the way they did. My emotional moment spread farther than I intended, and people were impacted by it.

So I apologized.

Not because I’m weak.
Not because I’m taking responsibility for everyone else’s actions.
But because accountability matters.

I needed to ask for forgiveness because I understand the ripple effect our words can have when we speak from exhaustion instead of wisdom.

And honestly, that was humbling.

But maybe the deepest reflection in all of this?

Last Thursday, I posted about leadership not being reactive.

And then Friday night, I became reactive.

Whew.

That realization humbled me more than anything else.

Because sometimes God has a way of letting the lesson move from your mouth to your mirror.

It’s easy to speak wisdom when we are rested, grounded, and emotionally regulated. It’s much harder to live it when you are exhausted, overwhelmed, hurt, and carrying too much at once.

But maybe that’s the point.

Leadership isn’t about never failing the lesson.
It’s about recognizing the moment you did, owning it with honesty, and choosing to grow instead of hide.

And honestly? I think that’s where real integrity lives.

Not in perfection.
But in alignment.
In accountability.
In being willing to say:

“I teach this because I’m still learning it too.”

What I’m learning now is that exhaustion will make you question things you were once certain about. Emotional overload will distort your perspective. And when you stop grounding yourself in who God says you are, the voices around you start getting louder than the voice within you.

That’s dangerous.

Because criticism can either sharpen you or shatter you depending on where your identity is rooted.

So today, I’m reminding myself:

I am not the whispers.
I am not the opinions.
I am not one emotional moment.
I am not the projections of other people.

I am a child of God.

Still growing.
Still learning.
Still healing.
Still leading.

Still human.

And maybe this season wasn’t meant to destroy me.
Maybe it was meant to reveal where I had forgotten myself.

And God is not intimidated by my humanity.

Happy Monday all,

-srt

Leadership Is Not About the Noise

Leadership is getting a lot of attention lately but not all of it reflects what leadership actually requires.

It is easy to point fingers and demand action from the sidelines. It is harder to recognize context, responsibility, and timing.

The truth is, leadership is not about rushing into every fire especially the ones someone else lit.

As Stephen Covey said, “Seek first to understand, then to be understood.” Real leadership starts with clarity not reaction.

John Maxwell reminds us, “A leader is one who knows the way, goes the way, and shows the way.” That does not mean inserting yourself into chaos you did not create. It means guiding people forward with intention and integrity.

And do not even get me started on emotional intelligence and leadership.

Self-awareness means understanding your role in a situation.
Self-regulation means not reacting just because others demand it.
Social awareness means recognizing what people actually need not what creates headlines.
Responsible leadership means choosing responses that move people forward not deeper into division.

I recently asked two leaders a simple question. Looking back, knowing what you know now, what would you change.

One said nothing.
One said everything.

That difference says a lot.

Leadership is not about defending every past decision or positioning yourself as a victim of circumstances. It is about learning, adjusting, and growing. It is about having the humility to say I would do this differently and the courage to do better next time.

When children are involved especially in situations as serious as threats the priority should be safety, truth, and stability. Not political theater. Not misplaced blame.

Leadership is also discernment. Knowing when to step in and when stepping in would only make things worse.

It is not about optics.
It is about outcomes.

It is not about who reacts first.
It is about who helps a community move forward.

We should be asking better questions. Who created the situation. Who escalated it. And who is actually working toward resolution.

Because real leadership is not loud. It is steady. It is thoughtful. And it is focused on what comes next not just what makes noise today.

Have a beautiful Thursday all,

-srt