leading with kindness

My mom taught me early on that kindness gets you farther in life than anything else—but only the genuine kind. People can see through falsities if they’re perceptive enough, or maybe I should say, willing enough to pay attention.

For me, genuineness has become a cornerstone. I’ve truly fallen in love with myself over the years, but it took a lot of hard work and self-development in my twenties. A big part of that was taking a hard look at who I was, where I wanted to improve, and holding myself accountable for how I show up—for the promises I choose to make, and the responsibility to keep them.

I think honesty is difficult for many people. For me, it keeps me grounded. It’s simpler to just say the thing than to keep track of little half-truths told to different people. My kids know this about me. When they ask me a question, they get an honest answer. Not brutal or rude—just genuine, because I genuinely care.

This is part of why stepping into new groups is sometimes tricky. I’ve always been relatively shy, even though I love people. It’s a strange juxtaposition: I can feel hesitant,but when I connect with someone or be of help to someone, I’m absolutely over the moon.

With this Boundless group, everyone has been wonderful—but between Harlen being sick and the natural pull between wanting to spend time with my husband and wanting to build new friendships, I haven’t made the connections I thought I might by now. Joe is a more private person by nature. It’s one of the things I love most about him, but it also means he doesn’t “buddy up” easily. He has had the same friends since kindergarten, and he’s not the type to suddenly be best friends over a pint. He is, however, one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, and he would do anything for anyone.

But if I’m being honest, traveling with him right out of the gate made it harder for me to infuse myself into this new community. I often felt like I was pulled in two directions: wanting to experience days with him, while also wanting to step fully into the social side of Boundless. Next time, I think I’d do it differently—fly out with just the kids, establish connections early, and then ease Joe into the community once he arrives.

Now, two weeks in, Joe has gone back, Harlen has been unwell, and I’ve missed even more days. There’s a part of me that feels sad, like I might not walk away from this first cohort with a friendship to show for it. But here’s the gift: even without really knowing me, the Boundless group—both staff and families—has continually checked in on us. Their kindness, extended so freely, has brought warmth to my heart.

That’s the thing about kindness: it reaches farther than you think. Even if I haven’t been able to fully show up the way I’d hoped, I’ve felt cared for, and I know that one day I’ll be able to reciprocate.

And the best part is that my children are witnessing all of this. They’re seeing what it looks like to be part of a community beyond what they’ve always known—a reminder that a tribe can be built anywhere, with people from all walks of life. What a gift for them to learn that kindness doesn’t depend on time or history, but on the willingness to show up for one another. To allow people to love you, to care for you, even if you’ve only just met.

That, to me, is education in its truest form.