The Race Ended. The Work Did Not.

On June 23, I finished second of 26 candidates in the Democratic primary for Maryland's 5th Congressional District. More than 17,500 voters chose me. I did not win the nomination, and I want to talk about that plainly, because women are rarely given room to talk about the races we do not win.

We tend to tell the story of women leaders from the finish line backward. We celebrate the first, the winner, the one who broke through. We say much less about the woman who came close, learned more than she expected to, and woke up the next morning with the same calling she had the day before. I am that woman. I suspect many of you reading this are too, in boardrooms, in nonprofits, in congregations, and in your own communities.

Here is what I know now.

Second Place Is a Data Point, Not a Verdict

Before I ran for anything, I was an auditor. I worked for KPMG and for Bon Secours Health System, and I managed a budget center for the U.S. Department of Defense. Auditors learn to separate the number from the story people want to tell about it.

So here is the number. In a field of 26, I finished ahead of a former county executive and a nationally known former Capitol Police officer. That result says something about what voters were looking for. It also says something about what women who have built real things can do when they decide to step forward.

If you have fallen short of a goal this year, audit the result honestly. Look at what the numbers actually say before you accept the story someone else writes for you.

Build First, Then Lead

I came to Maryland from Uganda. In 2019, I founded Royal Home Care and Staffing, and that company grew to nearly 350 employees. We later added Royal Medical Supplies and Royal Assisted Living. Our team is made up of caregivers and the staff who support them, and the families we serve trust us with the people they love most.

Running a care company teaches you that leadership is mostly unglamorous. It is making payroll. It is filling a shift when someone cannot come in. It is keeping your word to a family on the hard days as well as the easy ones.

When I decided to run for Congress, I did not bring a political résumé. I brought a balance sheet and a workforce. I would tell any woman considering public life the same thing I told myself: the record you build in business, in your church, or on a nonprofit board is a qualification. Do not wait for someone to hand you a title before you believe it counts.

Measure Success in Lives Strengthened

Somewhere along the way, I stopped measuring my work only by revenue or by votes. The measure I trust most now is how many lives are stronger because the work happened.

That standard holds whether you win or lose. A caregiver who earns a steady paycheck is a life strengthened. A senior who stays in her own home is a life strengthened. A young woman who decides she can lead because she watched someone like her try is a life strengthened. By that measure, a campaign that ends in second place can still be a very productive season.

It is also why I continue to mentor emerging leaders, support local food banks, and work toward a school for children with autism. None of that depends on holding office.

When One of Us Rises, We Bring Others With Us

The most important lesson of the campaign had little to do with me. Every woman who runs opens the door a little wider for the next one, and those of us who have been through it owe something to the women coming after us.

In the months ahead, I intend to spend much of my time doing exactly that: talking with newly elected officials and with women weighing their first run, and sharing what I learned about building a team, handling money responsibly, and staying grounded when the work gets loud.

Influential women are often asked to be strong. I would ask us to be generous as well. Return the call. Make the introduction. Share the hard lessons, not only the polished ones.

The Campaign Ended. My Service Did Not.

I do not yet know every shape my next chapter will take. I do know it will be about service: care for our seniors and the workers who support them, opportunity for small businesses, and making sure public dollars answer to the people they are meant to serve.

If you came close and fell short this year, in a race, a promotion, a pitch, or a dream you have carried for a long time, I hope you will give yourself the same permission I am giving myself. Grieve it briefly. Audit it honestly. Then keep building. The work is still yours.