This is for the leader who feels like they have lost their place.

In 2007, Robert Plant, lead singer of the most iconic bands in music history, stood on stage with Led Zeppelin at the O2 Arena for what would become one of the most celebrated reunions in rock history. The world wanted more. Promoters offered a massive tour and an even larger payday. The expectation was clear. Step back into the machine. Relive the past. Give the audience what it wants.

Plant walked away.

He chose a different path. He followed his own creative instincts. He leaned into new sounds, new collaborations, and new risks, including his work with Alison Krauss. He stepped away from what the world defined as success and into something that aligned with who he was becoming.

Some called it a missed opportunity. Others called it a mistake.

It was neither.

It was identity.

That moment has stayed with me because it reframes how we think about failure. We are conditioned to believe that turning away from something big, something visible, something validated by others must mean we failed. We attach our worth to outcomes, roles, titles, and applause. When those things shift or disappear, we question who we are.

John C. Maxwell offers a powerful reframe in his work Failing Forward: Turning Mistakes into Stepping Stones for Success. Failure is an event, not a person. That idea has been sitting with me in this season. I have replayed decisions. I have questioned outcomes. I have wrestled with the weight of what did not work. I have felt the tension between what was and what is.

I am learning that failure does not get to define me unless I allow it to do so.

Walking away has been part of that learning.

Walking away from environments that drain rather than develop. Walking away from expectations that do not align with who I am. Walking away from traditional leadership paths that no longer reflect the kind of leader I want to be.

There have been moments when that felt like failure. There have been moments when it felt like I was stepping off a stage with no clear next act.

Those moments have become the catalyst for something else.

Space.

Space to think. Space to reflect. Space to reconnect with why I started this work in the first place. Space to explore new collaborations, new ideas, and new ways of showing up. That space has led to new conversations, new creative work, and new projects, including the podcast I am building with Donya Ball. That work is rooted in something real. It is not built on noise or performance. It is built on truth, reflection, and connection.

That would not have happened if I had stayed where I was.

We have to normalize this.

We have to normalize that walking away from what is toxic is not quitting. It is not weakness. It is not failure. It is an act of clarity. It is an act of courage. It is a commitment to protecting your humanity in spaces that often ask you to leave it behind.

Leadership has too often been framed as endurance at all costs. Stay longer. Push harder. Ignore the signals. Keep performing. That narrative is not only outdated, it is harmful.

There is a different way.

A way that allows leaders to reflect, to reset, and to realign. A way that recognizes that identity is not tied to a title or a role. A way that gives permission to step away in order to step into something more aligned and more sustainable.

I am still in that work.

I am still unpacking what failure means in my own story. I am still learning how to separate what happened from who I am. I am still finding my voice in spaces that value honesty over hype.

What I know is this.

Walking away did not end my story.

It helped me find it.