The Rear View Mirror
A friend told me a story over lunch that stuck with me. One of those haunting little tales that sounds like a happy ending—until you look a little closer. Someone at his company is about to retire after forty years. She started fresh out of college, climbed the ranks, stayed loyal, and now she’s leaving with her heart full. She says the company took care of her, believed in her, gave her opportunities. She tears up when she talks about it. Calls the job not just life-changing, but life-saving. And from her vantage point, she gave them something in return: her loyalty, her work ethic, her whole career.
But loyalty isn’t the same thing as leadership—and that’s where the story gets more complicated. According to my friend, the organization she’s leaving behind is kind of a mess. Teams are fractured. Institutional knowledge is scattered. There’s no clear pipeline of future leaders. No continuity. No mentorship. No lasting imprint—aside from her own reputation. And somehow, the disconnect doesn’t register. It’s not just that she believes she was a great leader. It’s that she never thought to ask what kind of future she was leaving behind. In the rear view mirror, it all looks clean. But if you turn around, it’s not.
Legacy
His story isn’t unusual in corporate hell. Someone rises through the system, collects the rewards, and leaves believing their part is complete. The title was held. The deadlines were met. The numbers were good enough. Add in a few well-timed sacrifices, smooth over the missed moments, and with enough distance, even the soft spots start to sound respectable.
Loyalty gets mistaken for legacy more often than anyone wants to admit. Staying the course isn’t the same as shaping what comes next. Legacy isn’t built on tenure. It’s built on what you made stronger.
Corporate hell doesn’t reward that kind of thinking. It values stability. It values people who protect the ground under them, not those who clear a path forward. You stay quiet. You hit your targets. You defend your spot. After a while, maintenance starts to look like leadership.
Bitches, loyalty might get your name remembered. Legacy gets measured when you’re no longer in the room.
Happy Father’s Day.