Bailey Hundley

Adaptability became part of my life long before it became part of my career.

Because of my father’s work in the oil and gas industry, I moved often growing up. By the time I reached high school, I had lived in roughly ten different places, including overseas. I was continually learning a new school, a new group of people, a new environment and, at times, a completely different culture.

Back then, I certainly was not thinking about adaptability as a life skill. I was just learning how to be the new kid. But looking back, those years taught me to observe, adjust, connect with different kinds of people and become comfortable walking into situations I did not fully understand yet. That would eventually become a familiar feeling in my career.

After college, I honestly had no idea what I wanted to do.

I landed in a position supporting a new business venture for a well-known CEO and his executive team, with very little experience and even less understanding of where the job might take me. About two weeks in, the CEO walked up to me and said, “I don’t like this office. It sucks. Find us a new one.”

So I did.

I knew nothing about commercial real estate. I had never relocated an office. I was still trying to understand the business itself. What I did know was how to start asking questions. I researched, found people who knew more than I did, asked for help and figured it out.

That experience set the tone for much of what came next.

Over the years, I have been handed plenty of things I had never done before. Some worked beautifully. Some did not. There have been great leaders, difficult personalities, mistakes, successes, burnout, fresh starts and more than a few moments of wondering what on earth I had gotten myself into.

Interestingly, some of the toughest people I worked for became some of my greatest teachers — although not always in the way I expected.

Some taught me what great leadership looked like. Others taught me what I never wanted leadership to look like. There were people I did not understand while I was working for them whom I understood much better years later. And there were other experiences that taught me something equally important: being adaptable does not mean accepting everything.

That lesson took me longer to learn.

When your career is built around making things happen for other people, it can become very easy to measure your value by how much you can carry. Say yes. Fix it. Figure it out. Make it easier for everyone else.

There is tremendous value in being resourceful and willing to step outside your job description. But there is also value in knowing yourself well enough to recognize what you are willing to take on, how you expect to be treated and when an environment is no longer allowing you to do your best work.

Supporting someone does not make you a lesser person in the room. Service is part of what I do; it is not a measure of my worth. The people working behind the scenes often have an extraordinary view of an organization — its people, its relationships, its pressure points and the things that keep it moving. I have come to value that perspective enormously.

Creativity has played a large part in how I have made this career my own. I notice details. I notice how a room feels, how something is communicated, where a process is making life unnecessarily difficult, what someone may need before they ask and when something simply feels off. I like solving those puzzles. I also like making things not only work better, but feel better for the people involved.

After having my son, I was clinically diagnosed with ADHD at age 34. Suddenly, certain parts of my life made a little more sense. The diagnosis gave me context for challenges I had experienced growing up, but it also helped me recognize qualities I had been relying on for years. My mind moves quickly. I notice connections and details, jump between ideas and tend to look at problems from several directions at once. Learning to work with my brain instead of constantly fighting it has been its own education.

Then there is motherhood.

Nothing has given me more perspective. Being a mother has changed the way I think about patience, responsibility, forgiveness, priorities and success. I care deeply about my career, but it is not the most important thing about me. The life I am creating for my children, the way they experience their home and the person I continue to become because of them matter far more to me than any title.

Giving back is personal to me as well. Through Dress for Success Houston, Abigail’s Place and my advocacy against domestic abuse, I have seen what can happen when someone feels supported, believed in or simply reminded that they are capable of beginning again. Sometimes people do not need someone to solve everything for them. They need someone to see them, listen to them and remind them that they still have choices.

The rest of me is pretty simple. I love golf, fitness, interior design, travel, laughter, meaningful conversations and being near the water. I appreciate people who are kind, direct and genuine. I value relationships where words and actions match, where people can be themselves and where there is room to be imperfect.

I spent a lot of years learning how to adapt to the room. These days, I also understand the importance of choosing the rooms I want to be in.