The real questions don’t come during the Q&A. They come in the hallway afterward, when people ask how to handle what they’re carrying. After hundreds of talks on resilience, the same themes keep surfacing: people want permission to be honest.
At 25, I started a roofing company with more confidence than cash. Here is what I wish someone had told me about money, people, and knowing when to slow down.
There’s a line between vulnerability and performance, and most speakers don’t know when they’ve crossed it. Sharing trauma on stage is powerful when it serves the audience. It becomes performance when you optimize for their reaction.
I learned about resilience on rooftops in Wisconsin winters, not in conference rooms. Nearly two decades in commercial roofing taught me that real resilience isn’t a mindset. It’s a set of habits built where mistakes cost money and bad calls get someone hurt.
My mother died by suicide when I was 20 months old. I didn’t talk about it for 36 years. During that time I built companies and managed hundreds of employees, making every leadership decision with unprocessed grief running in the background.
My mother Joyce died by suicide with a gun when I was 20 months old. I didn’t talk about it for 36 years. Not because I forgot. You don’t forget a thing like that.