I thought being a great leader meant everyone knew my name.

By Maria Rosey

Founder of one touch finance

I thought being a great leader meant everyone knew my name. Then I met Jennifer. Here's the embarrassing truth: I spent years building the wrong thing. Have you ever had one of those moments where you realize you've been doing everything backward? Yeah. That was me on a Tuesday afternoon.

I'm sitting there looking at this shiny award on my desk. My name's engraved on it. We just crushed this massive project. I should feel amazing, right? But when I walked through the office that morning, my team looked dead inside. No high-fives. No excitement. Just people who couldn't wait to go home. And I'm sitting there thinking: What did I actually win here?

The moment everything clicked

Jennifer was one of my best team members. Super talented. Always delivered. One day, she comes into my office and quits. I'm shocked. "But we're doing so well! Look at what we've accomplished!" She looks at me and says something I'll never forget: "You've accomplished a lot. I've just been helping you do it."

Ouch. She wasn't wrong. I'd been so busy building the reputation that I forgot to help anyone else build theirs. That's when I got it. Legacy isn't about you being remembered. It's about what keeps going after you leave.

What I thought legacy meant (spoiler: I was super wrong)

Before Jennifer quit, I thought legacy was pretty simple:

Your name on stuff. Awards. Being "that person who did that thing." But that's not legacy. That's just ego with better marketing. Real legacy? It's when someone says, "They helped me become who I am." It's when the good stuff keeps happening even after you're gone.

Think about your favorite teacher. You probably don't remember every single lesson. But you remember how they made you feel capable. How they saw something in you that you didn't see yet. That's the stuff that matters.

What changed after Jennifer left

I did something I'd never done before. I called a team meeting and asked: "What do you actually need from me?"Nobody talked at first. It was awkward. Then people started being honest:

• "I need you to listen to my ideas, not just tell me yours."

• "I need time to actually learn new things, not just crank out work."

• "I need to feel like this is OUR thing, not YOUR thing that I'm helping with."

Man, that hurt to hear. But they were right. I'd been the bottleneck. The person in the way. Not the person helping people grow. So I changed my main question from "How do I make a bigger impact?" to "Who am I helping become better?" Everything got different after that.

The stuff I actually care about now

Here's what I figured out: You can't build anything that lasts by yourself. Impossible. Will you be proud of HOW you did this? I started asking myself this before every big decision: "Would I feel good explaining this choice to myself in five years?" If the answer is no, I don't do it. Simple as that.

Like, yeah, I could push my team to work weekends and hit the deadline. But would I be proud of that? Nope. Your values only count when they're hard. Anyone can say they believe in something. But do you believe it when it costs you? I said I cared about work-life balance. But I kept scheduling 7 pm calls. My actions were saying something totally different. Now I ask: "What am I willing to lose for this value?" If the answer is nothing, then it's not really a value. It's just nice words.

Give away your best stuff

This sounds weird, but hear me out. I used to keep my best ideas and opportunities for myself. Made sense, right? That's how you get ahead. Wrong. When you hoard everything, you become the limit. You're the ceiling everyone hits. But when you give stuff away? When you teach people everything you know? When you recommend someone else for the cool opportunity? They grow. They win. And then they bring all that new knowledge back and make everyone better. You're not the hero anymore. You're the person who makes heroes. That's way more powerful.

Talk less, listen way more

I used to think being a leader meant having all the answers. Now I know it means asking better questions and actually listening. Try this: Next conversation you have, try to listen 70% of the time. It feels super weird at first. But you'll hear things you've been missing forever. The best ideas aren't in your head. They're in the heads of the people actually doing the work.

What I'm building instead

My legacy isn't a title or a building anymore. It's people. It's the person who got promoted because I spent time helping them grow. It's the leader who told me, "You showed me there's a different way to do this." It's knowing that when I move on, the team will keep being awesome without me.

Want to know if you're building something real? Look around you. Are people better because of you? Not just more productive. Actually BETTER. More confident. More skilled. More themselves. That's how you know.

Here's what I want you to do

Stop thinking about what people will remember about you. Start thinking about whom you're helping become someone worth remembering. Ask yourself this week:

• Who did I help grow?

• What did I give away that made someone else stronger?

• Am I making space for others, or am I taking up all the oxygen?

Legacy isn't something you build alone and leave behind like a monument. It's something you build THROUGH people. And it keeps growing long after you're gone. That Tuesday when I stared at my award and saw my exhausted team? That changed me. I stopped chasing my name on things. Started investing in people whose names would never be next to mine. And honestly? This feels a million times better than any award ever did.

So what's your moment going to be? When are you going to stop building for yourself and start building for them?

Connect With Maria

www.onetouchfinance.com