This morning clarified something I’ve been circling for years but never named plainly: I have optimized for system impact, not personal authority.
I’m very good at building, fixing, and stabilizing systems. I improve organizations, help leaders think more clearly, and quietly make things work. But I’ve done this while standing adjacent to power instead of occupying it:
- Advisor instead of owner
- Architect instead of authority
- Reliable #2 energy instead of explicit responsibility with upside
That pattern used to make sense, but it is no longer congruent with who I am.
Earlier in life, staying adjacent gave me flexibility, safety, and moral insulation. I could contribute without exposure. I could help without risking visible failure. I could preserve an identity built around service, intelligence, and restraint. It worked—until it didn’t.
What’s changed is not my capacity, but the gap between who I am and how I’m positioned. That gap is now emotionally expensive. It shows up as frustration, quiet resentment, and the sense that I’m under-leveraged. At this stage, capability without outcomes doesn’t read as humility anymore—it reads as incongruence.
The hardest realization is that not winning has been an emotional strategy. Losing—or at least not fully claiming victory—kept me morally clean and relationally safe. But the cost was real: borrowed authority, capped upside, and leadership that I donate instead of own.
What once looked virtuous is now avoidance wearing a service costume.
Here’s the reframe that landed hardest for me: for someone like me, winning is load-bearing.
When capable people refuse authority, less capable systems stay in charge and entropy increases. Responsibility without power becomes the norm.
Winning, rightly defined, isn’t dominance or ego—it’s stewardship. It’s aligning authority with responsibility so systems actually stabilize (instead of limping along).
This internal shift then let me connect directly to recent geographic and social friction. A regional analysis made it obvious to me that I’m trying to regulate myself in environments that don’t reward execution or ownership. La Crosse and similar Driftless towns prioritize values, relationships, and moral signaling over outcomes. That’s not wrong—but it’s costly for someone wired to build, ship, and take responsibility.
Madison and Rochester stand out not because they’re glamorous, but because there competence carries weight. Execution is expected. Outcomes matter. Accountability is normal. The insight isn’t “I need to move tomorrow,” but that I need periodic immersion in consequence-dense environments to recalibrate my nervous system and expectations. Without that, resentment builds and clarity erodes.
The through-line is uncomfortable but clean: this isn’t a motivation problem. It’s an identity lag. I was still operating with rules designed for an earlier season—rules that prioritize safety and flexibility—while my calling now requires ownership, visibility, and measurable outcomes.
At this point, refusing to win isn’t neutral. It quietly undermines authority, credibility, and self-trust. Winning isn’t about ego anymore. It’s about accepting stewardship of the systems I’m already capable of carrying.