It’s the best advice I’ve ever received—and it came from my mother when I was a child. Back then, the risks were small: trying out for the volleyball team, asking a teacher for feedback. But those moments were practice. They taught me how to sit with discomfort, take initiative, and trust my instincts.
That same question has carried me through some of the most defining moments of my career. It’s the quiet push I rely on when facing uncertainty—when the stakes are high and the outcome unknown.
In my early 30s, I was working as a healthcare analyst, deeply immersed in physician-led value-based care. I loved the work and the collaboration, but something inside me was stirring. I wanted to grow—specifically, to understand the hospital side of reimbursement and how it could be more intentionally aligned with physician incentives.
I noticed a gap no one was addressing. And once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it. I spent weeks researching, asking questions, and sketching out what a solution could look like. Eventually, I wrote a proposal—not just outlining the problem but including a job description for the new role I envisioned.
Then came the hardest part: I scheduled a meeting with the head of hospital contracting—a senior leader several levels above me. She read the proposal in silence. Finally, she looked up and said, “I suppose you want this role?”
I nodded, nervously. “Yes.”
Without missing a beat, she responded, “Sounds good. Talk with our new VP. This role will report to him.”
Was it easy? Not even close. Was it terrifying? Definitely. Was it worth it? Absolutely.
What I’ve learned is this: the greatest risk isn’t rejection. It’s the regret that comes from holding back—the missed opportunity that lingers when you wonder what could have happened if you’d spoken up or taken the leap. Emerging as a leader doesn’t always start with a title. More often, it begins with a question, a little courage, and the willingness to speak your vision into the room, even when your voice shakes.
I’m grateful to the women who gave me the confidence to raise my hand, ask the hard questions, and take up space. Now, I’m committed to mentoring and creating those same opportunities for other women—because leadership isn’t just about where we go, but who we bring with us.
