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Hi, I’m McKay—a Fear-Slaying Executive Coach & Leadership Strategist. I work with high-performing professionals who look confident on the outside—but feel stuck, stalled, or unseen on the inside.

I help them dismantle fear-driven decision-making, reclaim their authority, and lead, negotiate, and rise with unshakable clarity.

This newsletter is where I share the kind of strategy most people pay thousands for—alongside sharp insights, bold questions, and features from peers who are building careers rooted in courage, not just credentials.

But first, a message from today’s sponsor…

I've been prepping for the Winter Olympics lately, and naturally, my YouTube feed has been feeding me figure skating clips. One skater kept popping up: Alysa Liu.

You might remember her. Bronze medalist at the last Winter Olympics. Youngest U.S. women’s champion ever at just 13. First American woman to land a quad and a triple Axel in the same program. She made technical history while most teens were still figuring out high school.

But what caught my attention wasn’t her stats.

It was her absence.

After winning bronze at Worlds in 2022, she quit. At sixteen. No injury. No scandal. Just... gone.

She deleted Instagram. Ghosted the sport. Walked away from the whole machine. Not for a pause, but a full stop. She chose academics. Skateboards. Funky hair. Piercings. And, most importantly, space to grow into someone outside of a scoreboard.

And then, after nearly two years away, she came back.

On her terms. With her choreography. Her music. Her style. Not to win (though she did - a World Championship, no less), but to feel something again. To reclaim the part of skating that was hers.

And I just kept thinking: this is what real leadership looks like.

Not the performative kind.
Not the spotlight kind.
But the kind that says:
I’m not here to meet expectations. I’m here to meet myself.

The kind that pauses for reconstruction, not just recovery.

The kind that sets boundaries so clear, the whole team adjusts around them.

The kind that doesn't need applause to validate the comeback.

When I think about leadership in high-pressure rooms — negotiations, pivots, new seasons — this is it. Ownership over optics. Intentionality over urgency. A refusal to be anyone but who you've become.

So as you move through your week, I’m wondering:

Where are you allowed to come back differently?
Where can you redefine the win?
What would it look like to lead without the performance?

Because sometimes, leadership has nothing to do with managing others.
And everything to do with how clearly you’re directing yourself.