When I first started working as an analyst, I worked with an incredible leader. Her name is Hilary.

My son was a baby, and although I had to report to the office, Hilary was always flexible with our team. We respected that flexibility. We didn’t take advantage of it.

One day, when I picked up my son from daycare, they told me he had started running a fever. He would need to stay home the next day until I was sure the fever was gone. Typical daycare protocol.

Hilary lived in Colorado, and I was in Florida, so I called her to explain what was happening. I was planning to call out.

She asked if I wanted to work from home instead. I explained that with a sick baby, working might be difficult.

She told me that was OK. The work would get done. And if I got tired, I should nap with the baby.

That stayed with me.

I knew then that if I ever became a leader, I wanted to be like her.

Same situation. Different response.

About a year and a half, maybe two years later, I was working with a different leader.

Let’s not call her Hilary.

I got a call from the same daycare. My son was sick, and I needed to pick him up.

When I let Not Hilary know, she asked if I had someone else who could get him.

I was floored. She didn’t ask if he was OK or what was wrong. Her first question was whether someone else could go.

I told her no.

She then asked if my husband could pick him up. He was working as an EMT. Stopping what he was doing, returning to headquarters to check in his ambulance, and leaving to get our son wasn’t feasible.

I explained that I could pick him up and then log in from home to continue working.

She said no. She would mark it down as an absence.

I knew then that this was not the kind of leader I wanted to be.

It wasn’t the first or the last experience like that I had with her. But it’s one I still remember.

What I took with me

Both experiences affected my trust, my willingness to contribute, and my understanding of leadership.

With Hilary, I learned what work/life balance could actually look like. I understood the importance of completing my work while still caring for my family. I could be honest with her about what was happening at home and remain committed to what our team, our company, and she needed from me.

Her flexibility didn’t make me care less about my responsibilities. I respected her and wanted to contribute.

That was when I began to understand the difference between being a boss and being a leader.

With Not Hilary, my experience was the opposite. I didn’t feel the same trust or willingness to bring her the problems I was facing.

As I moved forward in my career at T-Mobile, I carried both lessons with me.

I chose to lead with kindness, empathy, and understanding. Through that, I earned trust and built relationships with the people I led.

I still had to have difficult conversations. I still had to hold people accountable for metrics and follow policies. Kindness didn’t remove those responsibilities or diminish who I was as a leader.

The relationships I built made those responsibilities easier to navigate. Difficult conversations were easier because there was already trust between us. Helping people meet expectations didn’t have to become a battle.

I could care about people and hold them accountable. I could be myself and lead.

Why “You Do You”

You Do You by Geo grew out of these experiences and the way I want to lead.

Along my journey, I’ve met people who opened doors for me and handed me tools that helped me become the leader I am today. I’ve also met people who taught me how I didn’t want to lead.

That doesn’t mean their approach never worked for them. But I knew it wouldn’t work for me.

If I wanted to earn people’s trust, build relationships, and ask them to follow me—if I wanted them to let me help them develop—I had to be myself.

For me, that meant leading with kindness, empathy, and understanding while still having the conversations my role required.

That’s what You Do You means.

Be you. Do you.

It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take advice. It means learning to recognize when the advice is right for you, when it challenges you to grow, and when it asks you to lead in a way that doesn’t fit who you are.

It also means being willing to look at your impact. Is your approach working? How do you know? Are the people you lead able to grow, contribute, and trust you?

I’m starting this blog to explore those questions through experiences I’ve lived and stories that have made me stop and think. I hope they give you space to consider your own leadership and what you want people to take with them after working with you.

Hilary may not have known how much that conversation would mean to me. But years later, I was still carrying it into the way I treated other people.

So ask yourself this: If you had the opportunity to give someone the understanding Hilary gave me, what would you do?