By the end of 2024, I had over $100,000 in proposals out in the world. Real ones. Not the “phish” kind that Jack and I joke about—those folks fishing for free insights. No, these were thoughtful, targeted, high-stakes proposals to public schools and nonprofits. The kind of work that lights me up.
But by December? Only 25% had converted.
By February 2025? Still 25%.
And let’s be honest—those sectors are struggling. Funding is drying up, decision cycles are stretching into oblivion, and the people I want to serve most are underwater.
Which meant, by default, so was I.
Despair crept in. My old friend.
It wasn’t loud. It didn’t kick down the door.
It settled in quietly, like fog does—slow, steady, and all-consuming.
It sat in my chest like an elephant balancing on a nail. Breathing took effort.
Everything felt dull. Heavy. Questionable.
Is year eight even worth it?
Was helping public schools and nonprofits worth it?
I don’t even have kids—why this deep pull to support schools?
Am I even cut out for this? Should I just get a job with a predictable paycheck and a PTO policy?
The spirals are familiar. But something’s shifting.
I didn’t bounce back overnight. I didn’t yoga or gratitude-journal my way out of it.
But I did something new: I stayed.
I stayed with the fog. I let it teach me instead of torment me.
And here’s what I learned:
Despair isn’t a dead end—it’s a signal. An invitation.
It says, “Something’s not working the way you hoped… but maybe it’s leading you to something you never expected.”
Because in that stillness, things began to move.
New partnerships formed—organically, quietly.
We started adapting our nonprofit tools for small and mid-sized businesses.
Doors opened in places I wasn’t even knocking.
And even in moments where things still don’t go to plan, I no longer make it mean I’m failing.
I just keep showing up—breathing, recalibrating, trusting.
Patient in the fog. (And yes, “patient” deserves air quotes. Because Patti is still learning.)
Here’s the truth I’ve landed on:
I don’t have a tidy 5-step plan for navigating despair.
But I know this:
You can still lead when it hurts.
You can still serve when it’s silent.
You can still show up—maybe even more powerfully—from within the fog.
For me, the path forward is in relationships. Real ones.
Not just the proposal metrics or the wins I can tally, but the moments I connect—deeply, humanly.
Even with a little help from Chatty (yes, ChatGPT—my AI writing buddy), proposals are easier.
But the magic? That still comes from the people. The conversations. The staying power.
So if you’ve ever felt that fog… and showed up anyway?
You’re my kind of person.
Come sit with me in this space—this messy, meaningful, unglamorous place where growth happens.
Because I believe in your leadership, even when it’s quiet. Especially when it’s quiet.
Let’s keep going. Together.
Patti is still learning 