The Art of Radical Accountability: Leadership Skills for the Rebuilt Life
By Sam — Divorced at 34. Rebuilt everything. Here to tell you the second chapter is better. ·
It’s May in Portland, and if you’ve ever lived here, you know the vibe. The rhododendrons are exploding in every shade of neon pink, the coffee tastes a little crisper, and there’s that specific feeling of transition in the air.
I was sitting on my porch this morning with Frank—my senior rescue pittie who spends 90% of his day auditioning for the role of ‘Rug’—and I was watching Lily try to teach him how to play fetch. Spoiler: Frank is 12. He isn't interested in fetch. He’s interested in naps and high-value treats. Watching them, I realized that so much of what we call ‘leadership’ in the professional world is just us trying to force the world to play fetch when the world is actually just trying to take a nap.
When I was 34, sitting in a lawyer’s office with a life that looked perfect on a spreadsheet but felt like a hollow shell, I thought leadership was about control. I thought it was about hitting KPIs, managing optics, and ensuring that everyone in my orbit stayed within the lines I’d drawn.
I was wrong. That wasn't leadership; that was maintenance. And when the foundation cracked, the maintenance didn't save me.
True leadership—whether you’re running a startup, managing a team, or just trying to manage the chaos of co-parenting—isn't about directing traffic. It’s about radical accountability. It’s the ability to look at your results and say, ‘I built this,’ even when what you built is a disaster.
The Myth of the 'Blameless' Leader
In my Fortune 500 days, I sat through countless seminars on ‘accountability.’ Usually, it was a euphemism for finding out who to fire when the Q3 numbers missed the mark.
Real accountability is different. It’s the uncomfortable art of owning your role in every single outcome. When a project goes sideways at work, or when a conversation with my ex gets heated, the reflex is to look for the external variable. Maybe the client was vague. Maybe they were being unreasonable. But the Explorer in me knows that if I stay in that victim mindset, I stop growing.
When you stop blaming the market, your boss, or the timing, something scary happens: you realize you have all the power to change the outcome next time. If you didn't set the expectation, that’s on you. If you didn't create a culture of safety, that’s on you.
How to Audit Your Own Leadership
I tell my consulting clients that the first step to better leadership is a ‘Brutal Truth Audit.’ You can do this on a Sunday night with a glass of wine or a cup of tea. It’s simple, but it’s not easy.
First, pick one area of your life where things feel stagnant. Maybe it’s that business pivot you’ve been putting off, or a relationship that feels like it’s on autopilot.
Ask yourself these three questions: 1. What is the one thing I am refusing to admit about this situation? 2. What is the ‘story’ I’m telling myself about why I can’t change it? 3. What is the smallest, most inconvenient action I could take in the next 24 hours to shift the dynamic?
If the answer to that last one makes you feel slightly nauseous, you’re on the right track. That’s the feeling of growth leaving the body.
Leading Through Destruction
I’ve written before about ‘burning it down.’ People often mistake that for recklessness. It’s not. It’s surgical.
Leadership is knowing when the structure you’ve built is no longer serving the mission. When I left my marriage and my career, people thought I was having a breakdown. I was actually having a breakthrough. I realized that keeping the ‘perfect’ life intact was costing me my integrity.
To lead others through change, you have to be comfortable with the sound of things breaking. You have to be the one who stands in the debris and says, ‘Okay. We aren't here anymore. Where are we going next?’
Creating Space for Others to Rebuild
My favorite part of being a parent to Lily is watching her fail. Sounds harsh, right? But if I step in every time she drops her ice cream or fails to build an impossible LEGO set, I’m not leading; I’m coddling.
Great leaders create an environment where failure isn't a funeral—it’s a data point. When you treat your team’s mistakes as learning opportunities rather than moral failings, the psychological safety in the room spikes. People stop hiding their work and start innovating.
Stop trying to be the hero who saves the day. Be the architect who builds a space where other people can be the heroes.
The Second Chapter is Yours to Write
I’m 38 now. My hair has a few more greys, my back hurts if I sleep on the wrong mattress, and I’ve got a rescue dog who snores louder than a freight train. But I’ve never felt more like a leader than I do today.
Leadership isn't a title on a LinkedIn bio. It’s the way you show up when the floor falls out. It’s the way you parent, the way you consult, and the way you treat yourself when you look in the mirror after a long, hard day of rebuilding.
We aren't defined by the chapters that ended in flames. We’re defined by the audacity to pick up the pen and write the next one.
What’s one thing you’re holding onto out of fear, even though you know it’s time to let it go? Shoot me a message or drop a comment below. I love hearing where you’re at in your own rebuild. Let’s talk about it.