I’ll be honest with you, fellows. Asking people to vote for me was harder than I expected.
(If you’re new here, welcome. I call my readers and listeners “fellows.” It’s a little play on my last name, Stringfellow, and on the idea that we’re all connected by invisible threads.)
For the last few weeks, I’ve been competing in the Top Host contest. As I write this, I’m sitting 2nd in my Top 15 group, and voting closes tonight at 9 PM Central. By the time you read this, the results may already be in.
But here’s the thing. Whether I win or not, this contest already taught me something I needed to learn.
The hardest part wasn’t the competition
I thought the hard part would be the numbers. Watching the leaderboard. Wondering who was ahead.
It wasn’t.
The hard part was asking.
Every time I sat down to write a post asking for a vote, something in me pulled back. Who am I to ask for this? People are busy. They have their own lives. I don’t want to be a bother.
Maybe you know that voice too. It sounds like humility. It sounds polite and considerate.
But I’ve started to wonder if, sometimes, it’s really just pride wearing a nicer jacket.
What happened when I asked anyway
So I asked anyway. Again and again.
And people showed up.
My mom, Carolyn Mooney, became one of my top voters. Of course she did. She’s been showing up for me my whole life, and an online contest wasn’t going to change that.
My sister, LeAnn Pruett, was right there with her. Day after day, she voted, shared, and cheered me on.
Then friends I hadn’t talked to in a while started voting. People I barely knew sent messages saying, “I voted today!”
I never would have known that if I hadn’t asked.
Asking is a gift you give other people
This is the part that really got me.
When I asked for help, I thought I was taking something from people: their time, their attention, their clicks.
But that’s not how it felt on their end. People wanted to help. They seemed glad to be invited in. Asking gave them a way to say, “I’m with you.”
When I didn’t ask, I wasn’t protecting anyone. I was just keeping them out.
The leadership takeaway
Here’s where this connects to leadership, fellows.
Leaders who never ask for help rob other people of the chance to contribute.
I see it all the time in coaching. A leader carries everything alone. They think it’s strength. They think it’s servant leadership. “I don’t want to burden my team.”
But servant leadership isn’t about doing everything yourself. It’s about lifting other people up, and one of the best ways to lift people up is to let them matter. Give them a real part to play. Invite them into the work.
John Maxwell talks about the idea that a leader’s potential is shaped by the people closest to them. I’ve always nodded along to that. This contest made me feel it. Nobody climbs alone. The people in your inner circle can’t help carry the load if you never hand any of it over.
So ask yourself:
Where am I carrying something alone that someone else would be glad to help with?
Who on my team is waiting to be invited in?
Is my “I don’t want to bother anyone” really humility, or is it pride?
Asking isn’t weakness. Asking is trust. And trust is what builds a team.
Win or lose, I’m grateful
I don’t know how tonight will turn out. Maybe I’ll finish first. Maybe I won’t.
Either way, I already got something better than a title. I got to see who shows up. I got a reminder that I’m surrounded by good people. And I got a lesson in humility that I didn’t know I needed.
I’ve always believed we were made for each other, made to lean on one another and not walk through life alone. This contest reminded me of that in a way I won’t forget.
To Mom, to LeAnn, and to every single person who voted, shared, or sent a kind word: thank you. Truly. You showed up, and it meant more than you know.
Your turn
If this stirred something in you, maybe you’re the leader who needs to start asking. Or maybe you want help figuring out how to bring your team in closer. That’s exactly what I love to work on with people.
I’d love to talk with you. You can book a complimentary discovery call at stringtheory19.com. It’s 15 minutes, no pressure, just a conversation.
If this struck a chord, keep the strings vibrating by sharing it with a fellow.
— Thomas
StringTheory19