The Seat I Didn't Know I Needed
I can still remember sitting in my car after receiving a phone call that would change the course of my career.
For a few moments, I just sat there.
My hands gripped the steering wheel while my mind replayed every word that had just been spoken.
I wasn't expecting the call.
I certainly wasn't expecting the opportunity.
Someone had recommended my name.
Someone had spoken about my leadership in a room I had never entered.
As tears filled my eyes, I whispered a simple prayer.
"Thank You, Lord."
But what overwhelmed me wasn't simply the opportunity.
It was the realization that I had almost missed one of the greatest leadership lessons of my life.
For years, I believed my success depended almost entirely on my own effort.
Work harder.
Study longer.
Volunteer more.
Prepare better.
Earn another degree.
Serve on another committee.
Arrive early.
Stay late.
I believed excellence would eventually speak for itself.
While those things mattered—and they absolutely did—they were only part of the equation.
Because excellence may get you noticed.
But sponsorship often gets you invited.
That realization forever changed the way I viewed leadership.
It reshaped how I built relationships.
It changed how I viewed influence.
Most importantly, it transformed how I understood my responsibility to help others.
Today, when I walk into boardrooms, government offices, churches, community meetings, and conference rooms, I no longer ask only,
"Who is sponsoring me?"
Instead, I ask,
"Whose name can I speak?"
Because leadership isn't simply about taking your seat.
Leadership is about making sure someone else has one too.
For most of my career, I didn't even know I needed a sponsor.
Like so many women, I believed that if I simply kept producing excellent work, opportunities would naturally come.
Sometimes they did.
Sometimes they didn't.
There were seasons when I watched people with fewer qualifications receive promotions.
There were moments when I questioned whether I belonged in the room.
There were days when I smiled publicly while privately wondering if anyone truly saw my potential.
Maybe you've been there too.
Perhaps you've worked faithfully while someone else received the recognition.
Maybe you've watched your ideas gain traction only after someone else repeated them.
Perhaps you've questioned whether you're truly enough.
If so, I want you to know something before we go any further.
You are not alone.
I've lived those moments.
I've questioned my own worth.
I've wondered whether I should continue showing up when it felt like no one noticed.
Yet looking back, I can now see that God was preparing me long before He promoted me.
He was developing my character before expanding my influence.
He was teaching me stewardship before entrusting me with greater responsibility.
Most importantly, He was placing people along my journey who would eventually speak my name in rooms I had never entered.
Some became mentors.
Others became sponsors.
And together, they helped shape the woman—and the leader—I am today.
This book was born from those experiences.
Not just the victories.
But the disappointments.
Not just the promotions.
But the demotions.
Not just the applause.
But the lonely seasons when I wondered whether my best days were behind me.
You'll travel with me from local government to county leadership, from ministry to politics, from heartbreak to healing, and from being overlooked to discovering that God's greatest sponsorship often arrives through unexpected people and unexpected doors.
Along the way, I'll share the lessons I wish someone had taught me earlier.
You'll discover the difference between mentors and sponsors.
You'll learn why excellence, while essential, is not always enough.
You'll understand how reputation is built, how influence is earned, and why relationships matter more than collecting business cards.
Most importantly, you'll discover that the greatest leaders aren't simply those who make it to the table.
They're the ones who pull out another chair.
So whether you're leading a business, serving your community, building a ministry, climbing the corporate ladder, or simply trying to find your place in the world, I wrote these pages with you in mind.
Girl, hear me when I say this.
You are not invisible.
You are not forgotten.
And you are certainly not finished.
There is a seat with your name on it.
And before this journey is over, my prayer is that you'll not only find your seat—but you'll become the kind of woman who makes room for someone else.
Welcome to the table.
Let's begin.