Take the Wisdom Leave the Pedestal
Learning from imperfect people who share their authentic wisdom.
Take the Wisdom. Leave the Pedestal.
Lately, I've found myself doing a lot of reflecting. Maybe that's what happens when you start over. Building Goddess Goodies has given me the opportunity to create something that's completely my own, but it has also caused me to look back at the people, experiences, and lessons that brought me here. Writing these articles has done the same thing. As I've started thinking about the book I hope to write one day and the conversations I hope to have from a stage, I've realized I've been collecting more than ideas. I've been collecting wisdom.
Some of that wisdom has come from books that found me at exactly the right time. Some has come from podcasts I listened to on long drives. Some has come from mentors, coworkers, customers, family, and friends. I've even learned valuable lessons from complete strangers I met for only a few minutes. When I look back, I can honestly say that every one of them has given me something worth carrying forward.
What I've also realized is that none of those people were perfect, and neither am I.
There was a time when I looked at successful people and assumed they had something I didn't. I admired authors, speakers, business leaders, and people who seemed to navigate life with confidence. As the years have passed, I've watched some of them stumble, change their minds, disappoint people, or simply reveal that they are just as human as the rest of us. Oddly enough, that didn't diminish the wisdom they shared with me. If anything, it reminded me that wisdom isn't reserved for perfect people. It's earned through living, learning, failing, growing, and being willing to share what those experiences teach us.
That realization also changed the way I look at my own life. When I think about the decisions I've made over the years, I know there are some I wouldn't make today. At the time, though, I made those decisions with the information, experience, and understanding I had. Life has a way of teaching us if we're willing to pay attention. As the years have passed, I've become more intentional and less reactive. I ask more questions now, and I'm not afraid to say I don't know something. Understanding has become more important to me than being right. I hope that ten years from now, I can look back at the person I am today and recognize that I've continued to grow.
One of the things I've learned along the way is that there are usually two sides to every story, and somewhere in the middle is where the truth likes to hide. That's probably why I overthink things sometimes. I want to understand before I react because I've learned that our experiences shape how we see the world. Of course, once I realize someone is simply trying to pull one over on me, the Jersey girl in me politely lets them know the conversation is over. Well... mostly politely.
Growing older hasn't made me weaker. If anything, it's made me stronger because my strength no longer comes from reacting in the moment. It comes from responding with intention. I still believe in grace and compassion and that most people are doing the best they can with what they know. But I've learned that grace has boundaries, too. I can listen to someone with an open mind and still stand my ground. I can respect a perspective without agreeing with it. Kindness, for me, was never meant to be mistaken for weakness.
Authenticity has become one of the values I treasure most. I'm no longer impressed by people who pretend to have all the answers. I'm drawn to people who are honest enough to admit they're still learning. Those are the people I trust because they're not trying to convince me they're perfect. They're simply willing to share what life has taught them, and in doing so, they give the rest of us permission to keep learning, too.
As I've reflected on all of this, one simple thought keeps coming back to me. It has quietly become part of how I want to live, how I want to lead, and how I hope to write.
Take the wisdom. Leave the pedestal.
I don't need the people who influence me to be flawless. I don't need them to have every answer or make every decision the way I would. I simply need to be open enough to learn from their experiences while remembering that they're human, just like I am. I also don't need to wait until I've figured everything out before sharing what life has taught me. My experiences won't be perfect either, but if they help someone else navigate their own journey, then they've served a purpose.
Maybe that's what wisdom really is. Not some finished, polished thing you arrive at. Just years of paying attention, keeping what helps, and letting the rest go so there's room to keep growing.
