On the people who see our potential, the courage to look in the mirror, and creating spaces where people can thrive.

There’s a sign hanging in my office that says, “Believe you can and you’re halfway there.”

It’s a quote often attributed to Theodore Roosevelt, and it’s one I’ve carried with me for years. I believe in the power of optimism, in recognizing our capabilities, and in the extraordinary things people can accomplish when they stop allowing fear to make their decisions for them.

But there’s another message about believing in ourselves that has stayed with me since childhood. And, if you know me or are just starting too, there’s no shock that it came from the Muppets.

I remember watching Bernadette Peters sing “Just One Person” to Robin, Kermit’s little nephew, on The Muppet Show. If you haven’t seen it – watch it. Seriously. I’ll be here when you get back.

The message is beautiful. Sometimes all it takes is one person believing in us to help us recognize something in ourselves that we couldn’t see before. That belief spreads until, eventually, we begin to believe in ourselves, too.

As a coach, I’ve had the extraordinary privilege of witnessing that transformation in other people.

I’ve worked with individuals who were far more capable than they realized. People navigating challenges, questioning their leadership abilities, or struggling to see beyond the limitations they’d placed on themselves. I’ve watched them recognize their strengths, confront their blind spots, take on bigger challenges, and begin fiercely believing in what they’re capable of accomplishing.

That is one of my favorite parts of coaching. Not telling someone what they’re capable of, but helping them discover it for themselves.

And lately, I’ve been thinking about the people who do that for me.

The People Who Believe in Me

My business coach and friend, Chris Adams of Red Thread Leadership Lab, has an incredible ability to see possibilities that I’m sometimes too close to recognize. She challenges me, encourages me, and occasionally asks the kind of question that makes me stare into the distance for a minute because I know I’m going to have to think about that one.

My husband, Ross, believes in me, too. Through some of the most uncertain chapters of our lives, he’s continued to encourage the parts of me that want to create, teach, coach, and perform.

And then there are my kids.

Yesterday, I auditioned for a musical. Now, putting yourself out there for an audition requires a particular kind of vulnerability. You walk into a room, share something that matters to you, and accept that the outcome depends on factors you can’t entirely control.

I’ve auditioned for major television singing competitions in the past. I understand that rejection is part of the performing arts. Sometimes you’re exactly what the director is looking for. Sometimes you’re not. Neither outcome determines your worth or your talent.

But when I came home, my kids greeted me with an enthusiastic, “Momma! How did the audition go?!”

And I thought about Robin, Kermit’s nephew.

My children weren’t waiting to find out whether I’d gotten the part before deciding to be excited for me. They were interested because I had taken a chance on something I love.

What a gift it is to have people who celebrate our willingness to try, not just the outcomes we achieve.

Recently, I was also having a conversation with my best friend, Claire, about belief and what it means to have people in our corner as we pursue something that matters to us.

I asked her what made her believe so strongly in what I was trying to build.

Her answer stayed with me.

She told me it was because she knew me. She knew my soul, and she knew the passion I had for what I wanted to create.

And I think that’s something we sometimes overlook when we talk about believing in people.

Claire wasn’t promising me that everything would work out exactly as I imagined. She wasn’t telling me that building a business around coaching, teaching, facilitating, performing, and creating would be easy.

She was telling me that she saw how deeply those things were connected to who I am. She recognized that this wasn’t simply a career decision. It was an expression of my purpose. There’s something incredibly powerful about being seen that way. Not just for what we’ve accomplished, the titles we’ve held, or the credentials we’ve earned, but for the things that genuinely make us come alive.

Sometimes the people who believe in us aren’t predicting our success. They’re reminding us who we are.

Sometimes Belief Comes With a Mirror

But believing in someone isn’t always about cheering them on. Sometimes it’s about helping them see something they may not want to acknowledge.

A while back, I was talking with my oldest son about resilience. This is not an unusual topic in our house. I’m a resiliency researcher and executive coach, so conversations about navigating adversity and developing our capacity to grow through difficult experiences tend to find their way into everyday life.

During that conversation, about a year ago, he said something that has been pinging around in my brain ever since.

“But you don’t do the things you say you do.”

Ouch.

And the thing is, I knew exactly what he was talking about. He was right. Direct – and right.

At the time, I was working in environments where I felt increasingly disconnected from my values and my sense of purpose. I wasn’t showing up as my most authentic and self-aware self. I was finding myself adjusting, filtering, masking, and holding back because I didn’t feel psychologically safe enough to do otherwise.

Here I was, helping other people explore their strengths, develop resilience, and lead with authenticity, while struggling to reconcile those principles with my own circumstances.

My son didn’t know every complexity of my professional experience. And his observation didn’t account for everything I was navigating. But there was something in it I needed to examine. Sometimes the people closest to us see a disconnect that we’ve become very good at explaining away. His words didn’t immediately change my circumstances. They did, however, invite me to look in the mirror and ask whether I was living in alignment with the values I spent so much time encouraging in others.

And that reflection wasn’t entirely comfortable.

When Being Resilient Isn’t Enough

I think one of the greatest misunderstandings about resilience is the assumption that resilient people should be able to withstand anything.

Keep going. Push through. Adapt. Find the silver lining. Work harder. Be stronger. Y’all, that’s exhausting.

Resilience isn’t about pretending circumstances don’t affect us. It isn’t about accepting treatment that undermines our well-being or finding increasingly creative ways to tolerate situations that are no longer healthy.

Sometimes resilience looks like perseverance. Sometimes it looks like setting a boundary. Sometimes it looks like admitting that something isn’t working and exploring what might come next. And sometimes it means recognizing that the environment we’re in is making it difficult to be the person we want to be. That’s not a particularly comfortable realization, especially when you’ve spent years building a career, investing in relationships, and finding meaning in the work you do. But discomfort can provide information.

My son’s words helped me begin examining not just what was happening around me, but how I was responding to it. What was within my control? What options had I not fully considered? And what was the worst-case scenario if I chose a different direction?

Those are the same three questions I use in my resilience framework:

1. What can I control?
2. What are my options?
3. What is the worst-case scenario?

They don’t magically eliminate uncertainty. But they help us move from feeling trapped by circumstances to recognizing where we still have choices.

And that’s where something began shifting for me.

Discovering My Occupassion

I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on what I would choose to do if fear, expectations, and financial pressures weren’t driving the conversation. And I keep coming back to the same answer. I would coach. I would teach. I would facilitate, perform, write, create music, and collaborate with people who want to make something meaningful.

I would help people discover their strengths and find the courage to pursue the things that bring them alive.

I would build community around that work, so people could learn from one another, contribute their unique talents, and experience the joy of doing something that matters to them.

I call this my occupassion—the place where what I do and what I love intersect. And somewhere along the way, I’ve realized that my purpose extends beyond helping individual people recognize their capabilities. I want to help change the environments in which those people are expected to succeed.

I want to work with leaders who understand that an employee’s ability to thrive isn’t determined solely by their attitude, talent, or willingness to work hard.

It also depends on the culture they’re part of.

Do they feel safe enough to share an idea that challenges the status quo? Can they acknowledge a mistake without fearing humiliation? Can they show up authentically without worrying that their differences will be used against them? Are they genuinely included, or are they simply welcome as long as they fit someone else’s expectations?

These questions matter to me because I’ve experienced what it feels like to become disconnected from my own authenticity. And because I’ve seen what happens when people feel supported enough to recognize their potential and pursue it.

I want leaders to understand that psychological safety and accountability aren’t opposing forces. We can hold people to meaningful standards while still treating them with dignity, encouraging honest communication, and making room for different perspectives.

That’s the kind of leadership I want to help cultivate.

Believe in You, Too

When I think back to Bernadette Peters singing to Robin, I realize that what makes the song so powerful isn’t simply its message about confidence.

It’s the recognition that belief can grow through connection.

Sometimes we need someone to recognize our strengths before we can see them ourselves. Sometimes we need someone to celebrate the fact that we tried. And sometimes we need someone who cares enough to challenge us when we’ve drifted away from the values that matter most.

My coach does that for me. My husband, my children, and my friends do, too.

And my oldest son, perhaps without realizing it, gave me something I needed during a particularly difficult chapter: an invitation to reflect on whether the life I was living was aligned with the person I wanted to become.

I’m still learning. Still creating. Still figuring out what this next chapter looks like. Still building. But I have a much clearer understanding of why I want to do this work.

I want to help people to recognize what they’re capable of. I want them to believe in themselves fiercely enough to pursue opportunities they might otherwise dismiss. And I want to help create workplaces and communities where they don’t have to hide who they are to belong to fit in.

Because believing in someone’s potential is a beautiful thing. Helping create the conditions in which that potential can flourish? That’s where belief becomes something bigger.

So I’ll leave you with two questions:

Who has believed in you when you struggled to believe in yourself?

And whose potential might you help them recognize today?

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I’m Megann Wither, a resiliency researcher, executive coach, leadership development facilitator, and lifelong believer in the extraordinary potential of ordinary people. Through coaching, facilitation, and conversations about resilience, I help people and organizations turn chaos into capability.

If you’re navigating a transition, exploring your purpose, or working to create a leadership culture where people can thrive, I’d love to connect. Learn more at MegannWither.com.