If you follow me on my other Instagram page or Facebook, you may know that I’m also a REALTOR. I love talking to people, building relationships, and earning trust.

Cue the music, folks. That’s me!

But having years of leadership experience doesn’t mean I have all the answers. Especially when I’m learning something new.

A recent experience reminded me of that. And since I talk here about leadership, I need to be willing to talk about my own learning, too.

The introduction is the easy part

When I was a leader at T-Mobile, I would introduce myself to a new team by sharing my experience. Then I would explain how I wanted us to work together.

We win as a team, and we fail as a team. We learn from each other. You have knowledge I may not have, and I’m going to come to you with questions. If neither of us knows the answer, we’ll work on finding it.

I would also tell them: I’m going to make mistakes. If I give you incorrect information, I’ll own it and apologize. And I’ll ask how I can do better.

Those are easy things to say when you’re introducing yourself.

They’re harder to practice when you’re embarrassed, disappointed in yourself, or worried that someone will question your ability.

That’s when those words have to mean something.

I didn’t know what I needed to ask

Here’s something I’m learning about being a beginner again: sometimes, I need more than an answer to one question. I need someone to walk me through the process.

There’s a difference between asking, “What do I do here?” and saying, “Can we go through the steps together? I want to understand what I might be missing.”

I haven’t always made that distinction clear enough.

I can wish I’d received more guidance and still acknowledge that I needed to be more specific about the help I needed. Both can be true.

Experience can make that uncomfortable. I’ve led teams. I’ve helped people grow. Shouldn’t I be able to figure this out?

Well, Geo, you can have years of experience and still be doing something for the first time.

Being willing to say that is something I want to practice.

Owning it means doing something with it

When something goes wrong, my instinct is to explain. I want people to understand what I was thinking, what I tried, and where I got stuck.

An explanation can help us understand why a mistake happened. But I also need to ask myself: Have I acknowledged the impact, or am I so focused on explaining my intentions that the other person doesn’t feel heard?

That question is uncomfortable. It’s also necessary.

The person affected deserves room to be upset. My good intentions don’t erase their experience.

So ownership has to include listening, acknowledging what I missed, and taking action. Then comes the work of understanding what needs to change.

An apology matters. Following through gives it meaning.

What this reminds me about leading

I’ve had leaders who helped me work through mistakes. They asked questions, explained what I’d missed, and showed me what to do differently.

I’ve also had experiences where I walked away knowing someone was disappointed in me, but still unsure how to improve.

I want to remember that when I’m the person someone comes to for help.

Have I explained the process clearly? Have I shown them an example? Do they know when to stop and ask for guidance?

And have I made it comfortable enough for them to say, “I still don’t understand”?

That doesn’t remove accountability. We still need clear expectations and honest conversations about what went wrong. But the conversation should leave someone better equipped to do the work.

Sometimes, a practical example can make something click in a way that another explanation won’t.

You know me. “Explain it like you would to a kindergartener.”

Give me something I can understand and use.

What I’m taking with me

Going forward, I’m going to be clearer when I need help. If I need a walkthrough, I’ll ask for a walkthrough. If I don’t understand a step, I need to say so before moving ahead.

I’m also taking this reminder with me: providing information and making sure someone understands it are two different things. I need to leave room for questions and check my own assumptions.

And when I’m helping someone else, I want to remember what it feels like to be capable, experienced—and still unsure.

I’d love to tell you I’ll learn every lesson the first time and never make the same mistake again.

Well, maybe.

What I can commit to is paying attention, owning my part, and changing what I do next.

That’s the leader I want to be. Someone who can say, “I got that wrong. Here’s what I’m doing about it.”

Have you ever been experienced in one area and a beginner in another? What did someone do that helped you feel comfortable asking for help?

Let’s talk about that. I’m still learning, too.