Owning It
Nobody teaches you how to make mistakes as a leader.
They teach you food cost.
They teach you labor percentages.
They teach you how to expo a busy service and write a prep list and keep the walk-in organized.
They don’t teach you what to do when you are the problem.
Early in my career, I thought leadership meant having answers. Being decisive. Being right. I thought if I showed uncertainty, I’d lose credibility.
So when I messed up — which happens to every single person in charge — my instinct was to defend. Explain. Justify. Power through.
That’s ego.
And ego is expensive.
Here’s the truth: if you lead long enough, you will screw things up.
You’ll misread a situation.
You’ll say something the wrong way.
You’ll make a call that impacts people’s lives.
You’ll move too fast. Or too slow.
You’ll assume instead of asking.
Sometimes the mistake is operational.
Sometimes it’s emotional.
Sometimes it’s forgetting that the people who work for you are humans before they’re employees.
What matters isn’t whether you make mistakes.
It’s what you do after.
For a long time, I treated mistakes like something to survive instead of something to learn from. I wanted to get past them quickly. Sweep them up. Keep moving.
But unresolved mistakes don’t disappear.
They show up later as resentment. Turnover. Burnout. Broken trust.
I’ve learned that owning your mistakes doesn’t make you weaker as a leader.
It makes you believable.
There is real power in saying:
“I got that wrong.”
“I should’ve handled that better.”
“That one’s on me.”
Not as a performance.
Not as a PR move.
As a genuine acknowledgment that you’re still learning.
Some of the most important moments in my career didn’t happen during service or menu development or big wins.
They happened in quiet conversations.
Pulling someone aside and apologizing.
Admitting I missed something.
Listening without interrupting.
Letting someone tell me how my actions landed.
That’s hard.
It requires you to sit in discomfort. To resist explaining yourself. To accept that impact matters more than intent.
But every time I’ve done it honestly, something opened up.
Trust deepened.
Communication improved.
Teams got stronger.
You don’t lose respect when you own your mistakes.
You lose respect when you pretend they didn’t happen.
Leadership isn’t about being flawless.
It’s about being accountable.
It’s about creating an environment where people feel safe telling the truth — including when that truth is about you.
I’ve also learned that growth doesn’t come from avoiding mistakes.
It comes from studying them.
Why did I react that way?
What was I protecting?
What was I afraid of?
How can I do this differently next time?
Those questions matter.
Because the goal isn’t perfection.
The goal is progress.
These days, I try to lead with more humility.
I still screw up. Probably more than I realize.
But I’m quicker to own it. Quicker to apologize. Quicker to adjust.
I care less about being right and more about being better.
That shift changes everything.
If you’re leading people — in kitchens, in restaurants, in any business — here’s what I’ll tell you straight:
Your team doesn’t need you to be a superhero.
They need you to be human.
They need consistency.
They need clarity.
They need to know that when you mess up, you’ll face it instead of deflect it.
That’s how culture gets built.
Not through slogans on the wall.
Through actions.
Through accountability.
Through choosing growth over ego, every single day.
And when you do that — when you really own your mistakes — you don’t just become a better leader.
You become someone people actually want to follow.
