
Have you ever made a decision that stayed with you, one that cracked you open in ways you never expected?
For me, everything shifted because of a decision I never imagined I would share publicly.
I prioritized a business trip over my son’s high school graduation.


Have you ever made a decision that stayed with you... one that cracked you open in ways you never expected?
For me, everything shifted because of a decision I never imagined I would share publicly.
I prioritized a business trip over my son’s high school graduation.
To understand the weight of that choice, you need to know the context.
My brilliant son had a “less‑than‑linear” high school journey as he coasted far more than he applied himself. It was his art teacher who warned him he might not pass.
Imagine potentially failing high school because of an elective!
In hindsight, that teacher was trying to teach him something important. But at the time it created uncertainty, frustration, and my own not so quiet disappointment that he wasn’t fully stepping into his potential.
Then came the day he walked through the door with the news that he would graduate after all.
Relief and celebration filled our home.
But when he shared the date of the commencement ceremony, my heart dropped.
It fell during the same week I was scheduled to be in Paris for what I believed was a critical work trip. I had a key role to play, a non‑refundable ticket, and a long‑standing habit of putting work first.
My workaholic self convinced me there was no turning back.
My son told me not to worry, that my not being there didn’t matter (that he really didn’t want to be there either) and I believed him.
But the truth is, it did matter.
Immensely.
To this day, I can still feel the sting of regret as I watched the livestream from my hotel room at 1 a.m. Paris time, jet‑lagged and painfully aware of what I missed.
My son wasn’t the only one receiving a life lesson from his art teacher.
I was being handed one too – the ongoing ache that comes with regret.
My son seemed perfectly content with the crisp $100 bill I handed him when I got home and the celebratory Brazilian steakhouse dinner we shared.
Me, not so much.
The guilt and shame lingered for years.


My son wasn’t the only one receiving a life lesson from his art teacher.
I was being handed one too – the ongoing ache that comes with regret.
My son seemed perfectly content with the crisp $100 bill I handed him when I got home and the celebratory Brazilian steakhouse dinner we shared.
Me, not so much.
The guilt and shame lingered for years.

That experience cracked something open in me, something I could no longer ignore.
In my pursuit of what I thought success required, I abandoned myself and, in many ways my family.
I replayed that mistake over and over, unable to shake the feeling that something fundamental needed to change.
This became my defining turning point, as it forced me to confront the gap between the polished, high‑achieving leader I appeared to be and the people‑pleasing, approval‑seeking, over‑functioning version of myself I hid from everyone.
Then life tested me again.
This time, it was my beloved father. His health declined rapidly, and we found ourselves in and out of hospitals as we prepared for his end‑of‑life transition.
I continued to work, but my focus shifted entirely. I chose to be present - with him, with my mother, with myself. I’m profoundly grateful that the hard lesson I learned with my son stayed with me.
The time I spent doting on my father in those final months is something I will cherish forever, and the beautiful twist is that I remained a high achiever. The testimonials speak for themselves.
But the difference was profound. I was getting to a point that my work didn't define me.


Then life tested me again.
This time, it was my beloved father. His health declined rapidly, and we found ourselves in and out of hospitals as we prepared for his end‑of‑life transition.
I continued to work, but my focus shifted entirely. I chose to be present - with him, with my mother, with myself. I’m profoundly grateful that the hard lesson I learned with my son stayed with me.
The time I spent doting on my father in those final months is something I will cherish forever, and the beautiful twist is that I remained a high achiever. The testimonials speak for themselves.
But the difference was profound. I was getting to a point that my work didn't define me.

Kintsugi
"The ancient Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold, teaches us that fractures are not flaws to hide, but invitations to evolve."
RELEASE. REPAIR. RENEW.
The 3-Phase Journey for Meaningful Transformation
Release what no longer serves
Repair fractures for a more aligned YOU
Renew with practices and habits that stick
My resolve was tested yet again when I received a “pink slip” from the organization I erroneously made my home, family, and identity.
But instead of creating another fracture, that pink slip set me free. And instead of losing myself, I found clarity and my self worth remained intact.
Space was created for new beginnings based on lived experience, shaped by deep reflection, and strengthened from hard-earned wisdom.

My resolve was tested yet again when I received a “pink slip” from the organization I erroneously made my home, family, and identity.
But instead of creating another fracture, that pink slip set me free.
And instead of losing myself, I found clarity and my self worth remained intact.
Space was created for new beginnings based on lived experience, shaped by deep reflection, and strengthened from hard-earned wisdom.


If you’re reading this, you likely have your own fracture that’s asking to be honored.
I support leaders like you to recognize that fractures are not failures, they're life lessons. They are the foundation that deepens wisdom and strengthens the places that once felt broken.
That’s where the gold is.
That’s how we evolve, grow, and lead with our whole selves.
Kintsugi Connected Leader, let's journey together.
PS – In case you’re wondering, my son is doing great! He enlisted in the Navy and was head of his class in C-School, resulting in a fast-track promotion. Currently he's Petty Officer, 3rd Class, and he married the love of his life last year.
I'm so proud of him. And guess what, it's my son I seek out for advice because of his own Kintsugi Connected Leader journey!
My son never had to forgive me for missing his high school graduation, but I had to forgive myself. And by sharing this story with the world, I have finally done just that.





