The Power of Connection

If you ask me what my greatest strength is, it isn’t strategy or structure or organization — it’s connection.
It’s the moment I remember something someone said months ago and bring it up again. It’s how I pause in a hallway conversation or an email thread to say, “Hey, how did that situation ever turn out?”

It’s not about remembering every detail — it’s about remembering that they matter.

Connection has always come naturally to me in my work life. I enjoy seeing people, learning their stories, building something steady over time. Listening — especially when things are calm — becomes a quiet investment. It builds trust. It creates space for humanity to show up before conflict does.

Because when you’ve built connection in times of calm, it’s so much easier to assume positive intent when things go sideways. You can have the hard conversation because you’ve built the connective tissue that holds it.

That’s the secret of strong teams, strong leaders, and strong families: connection built consistently, not occasionally.

It’s slow work — but it’s the kind that compounds.

Connection as Leadership

In my professional life, I’ve watched the difference connection makes play out in real time. A colleague who feels seen will move mountains for the mission. A student-athlete who feels valued will go the extra mile not because they have to, but because they want to.

I’ve sat in countless gyms, classrooms, and meetings across Vermont, and I can tell within minutes if connection is present. You can feel it in the tone of the room. You can hear it in the way people talk to each other — the pauses, the humor, the grace they give one another.

When it’s missing, everything feels brittle.
When it’s there, everything flows.

And what I’ve noticed — over and over — is that the best leaders aren’t necessarily the loudest or the most confident. They’re the ones who see people. They know how to connect. They make space for others to feel like they belong.

That’s the kind of leader I strive to be — one who doesn’t just manage people, but connects with them.

Because connection doesn’t just make us kinder. It makes us stronger.

Connection as Family

At home, connection looks and feels different — and sometimes, harder.

My son is adopted. There’s a part of his story he doesn’t always want to acknowledge, and as a mom, that’s a hard space to hold. I told him once that by avoiding that part of himself, he was robbing himself of an opportunity — to use it as a driver, a strength, a piece of his identity that gives him depth.

When we talk about those things — the deeper, harder, more meaningful ones — it’s like a light switches on. We’re no longer just talking about logistics or schedules or who’s walking the dog. We’re connecting.

And you can feel the difference immediately.

It’s like moving from fluorescent lighting to candlelight. Everything softens. There’s room for breath again.

But here’s the truth: connection doesn’t just “happen” at home. Just like in leadership, it has to be intentionally built. It requires showing up, not for the task list, but for the relationship itself.

It reminds me of what happened when everything went online — all those organic hallway conversations, the laughter before meetings, the small talk that used to build connection… gone. We started living on task lists instead of relationships.

That’s what happens in families too. You stop building in the in-between moments — the waiting, the quiet, the curiosity — and without them, connection fades.

Connection as Teamwork

I see it in athletics constantly. You can have a roster full of all-stars and still not have a team.
Talent alone doesn’t create belonging.

When I played basketball, I didn’t feel connected. I was part of the team, technically, but I didn’t feel like I belonged. I wasn’t seen. I wasn’t known.

That’s the thing about connection — it’s not automatic. It takes intention, time, and trust. Coaches and leaders have to create it on purpose, not hope it happens by accident.

A connected team knows how to show up for one another, how to pick each other up after a bad game, how to read the silent cues of someone who’s struggling. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about being together.

And when you leave — the team, the school, the workplace — people might forget the stats, the wins, the projects. But they’ll remember how you made them feel.
They’ll remember if you showed up for them.
If you listened.
If you cared.

Connection is the currency of belonging. And it’s what people remember long after you’re gone.

💬 GRL Pep Talk

Oh GRL, this one’s for both of us.

If you’re in a season where you feel disconnected — from your people, your work, even yourself — it doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means you know the difference. You’ve felt connection before. You’ve felt that spark when conversation feels easy, when you’re known and accepted. That’s why this ache feels so sharp — it’s a reminder of what’s possible.

Keep showing up. Keep doing the slow, unglamorous work of connection — the text that says, “thinking of you,” the walk with no phones, the hard conversation you’ve been avoiding.

The connection will come. And when it does, belonging will follow — quietly, steadily, beautifully.

Because belonging isn’t permanent. It shifts as we grow. The circles that once fit might loosen, and that’s okay. Connection is what helps us find the next one.

The people who see you now, in this version of yourself.
The ones who remind you that you’re not too much or too far gone.

Connection builds trust. It heals distance.
It’s what makes life taste right again.