The Identity That Built It Almost Broke It

A few years ago I read a book by Marshall Goldsmith — actually, I devoured it. It was called What Got You Here Won't Get You There.

I loved it because it finally put into words a phenomenon I'd seen in my own life, and a frustration I kept seeing in others too: the exact behaviors that get you promoted are, more often than not, the ones that quietly cap what's next.

I know this one from the inside.

The Identity

I spent time in the Navy, and it trained something into me: do what you're told, but do it independently, get the job done, and do it to the highest standard you've got. Nobody had to check my work. I just did it, and I did it right.

Years later I was climbing the corporate ladder, doing everything right by every measure that mattered to me. But I ran into people who were okay with mediocre. Okay with staying inside a limited frame. And my sense of what was right and wrong wouldn't let me just follow orders when the orders didn't match my values. I could have gotten further there. But the price of getting further was becoming okay with something I wasn't okay with. That wasn't negotiable for me.

So I left, and I started building something of my own. And that same independence — do it yourself, do it right — is exactly what got the business off the ground. It got me started. It got me going.

But it wasn't until I let go of that — until I actually let other people build it with me — that the company started growing. Not before.

The Lone Wolf

Here's the thing about that identity: it doesn't always look like a Navy story or a startup story. Sometimes it just sounds like a sentence you've said a hundred times: "If you want it done right, do it yourself." Or: "I do delegate — but then it doesn't come back on time, or it doesn't come back to my standard, so I just end up doing it anyway."

If either of those sounded familiar, that's the same wiring talking. I want to be clear — this is one shape this takes, not the only one. But whatever your version is, the mechanism underneath is usually the same.

The lone wolf gets you up the ladder. She doesn't wait to be told what to do. She doesn't need consensus. She sees the gap and fills it herself, fast, quietly, to a standard nobody has to check. And for years, that's exactly what gets rewarded. Bigger title. More trust. "She just handles it."

But nobody warns her the job changes underneath her. At some point what's actually being asked isn't "go fill the gap yourself" — it's "build something where the gap gets filled without you." That's not a bigger version of the same skill. It's a different one. From the outside it can even look like doing less.

That's where willpower stops being enough. Willpower is a lone-wolf tool — it's how she pushed through the early years, gritted her teeth, did it herself, did it right. But willpower was never built for this next part. You can't grit your way into building a team that doesn't need your grit.

Right around the same time, her circle gets smaller. Nobody warns you about this either: the higher you climb, the fewer people you can be fully honest with about how hard it actually is. Peers with the same scope get harder to find. That's not a personal failing — it's structural. Isolation is the price tag the lone wolf pays for being so good at handling it alone.

Somewhere to Start

If some version of this is landing for you, hear this too: you don't out-will your way through it, and you don't do it alone — that's the whole point.

Here's one small thing letting the lone wolf rest can actually look like. People tell me all the time, "wow, you're so busy." And there was a season that was true — I was just doing everything. But somewhere along the way I had to learn: I'm not busy. I'm prioritizing. When my next availability is a couple weeks out, that's not me too slammed to fit you in — that's me protecting the space I need to think, to strategize, to lead. And when I skip something I keep getting invited to that doesn't move my goals forward, that's not me being too busy to show up. That's me choosing where I can actually have impact.

It starts small. One honest conversation with someone who actually sees the full picture. One place you let the lone wolf rest — even if that place is just your calendar. That's not a strategy. It's just true.

We've got more conversations like this happening this fall — keep an eye on your inbox.

P.S. — If you're in the Rochester area, Luminary Conference is coming up September 24–25. Tickets are still available, but the room is capping out — grab yours at luminaryconference.org before it's gone.