Something to know about me, I’m not as laid back as I might seem.
I just don’t sweat the small stuff, and here’s why.
In 2012, I learned I had Stage 3 colon cancer and spent the next 2-years fighting for my life. That is not a metaphor; it was chemotherapy, radiation, surgeries, and quiet terror. But I healed.
Then, just as I was standing back up, life decided to double down. In a span of six months, I lost every remaining “adult” in my life. My father-in-law. My dad. My mom. And it rewired me.
After hits like those you don’t come back the same. You either give up or emerge changed. The things that used to keep you up at night—like who said what in a meeting, whether that performance rating was “exceeds” or just “meets,” or why your boss didn’t heart your Teams message, they stop being mountains. They barely register as molehills.
That doesn’t mean I don’t care. I care deeply. I just reserve my energy for the stuff that actually matters.
-The people you’d drop everything for.
-The health you can’t buy back.
-The work that aligns with your values, not just your calendar.
Everything else? Small stuff.
So let me offer a little permission slip today to the strivers, the burnt-out overachievers, the quietly discouraged, and the people-pleasers doing internal gymnastics in 1:1s.
If it’s not life, death, or love—it’s small stuff.
Did you get passed over for a promotion you earned? It stings. But it’s small stuff. (It’s also probably a systems issue, not you, but that’s another post.)
Did a coworker talk over you in a meeting and now you’re in a self-worth rabbit hole? Small stuff.
Did someone hijack your idea in a meeting and now you’re googling “how to subtly flip a table”? Small stuff.
You are not defined by your manager’s feedback, your colleague’s insecurity, or the number of acronyms in your title.
You’re defined by how you show up, what you build, and whether you can look at yourself each day and say, “I fulfilled my commitments and protected my peace.”
Now, when it comes to the not small stuff… I work from a framework to help keep focused on the long game. It’s called SNAK; because growth is hard, but snacks help:
Skills – Are you learning something worth adding to your life resume?
Networks – Are you building relationships that are reciprocal and real?
Activities – Are you spending time on things that energize and engage you?
Knowledge – Are you learning from your experiences, even the bad ones?
SNAK reminds me that real development isn’t what looks good on a performance review. It’s about what actually nourishes you (career-wise, not carb-wise—but honestly, both).
I’m not saying brush it all off. Some stuff needs addressing. But reserve your fire for what’s worth burning calories over.
The rest? Smile. Shake it off. Re-center. And if all else fails, remember this from someone who’s learned the hard way: If it’s not life, death, or love—it’s just Tuesday.
