📍 Welcome back to No Silver Spoons. I'm Sarah Beth Herman, and this is week four of our 12 week series. Keep going. If you haven't caught up to now and you're just now tuning in, you can go ahead and listen to this episode. You're not missing anything from before. Each episode is its own episode, but it's all part of the series.

So once you finish this one, go back and listen to episode. 89 of week one of Keep going in our series here at No Silver Spoons. Over the last few weeks we've been talking about rebuilding, humility and quiet growth, but today we're going to talk about one of the hardest parts of leadership, and that is letting go when it hurts.

Before we begin, I want to say that this story is deeply, deeply personal. I have changed the name of the person involved, but every emotion, decision and consequence is real. This is the story of a woman named Irma and the decade long lesson that she taught me about discernment, grace, and boundaries.

It was 2009. I had been hired to manage one of four locations in a busy dental group.  That's when I met Irma. She was vibrant, loud, laugh, big smile, naturally, really incredible with patients. She could make anyone feel really comfortable, and when she sold treatment plans and presented them to patients, she did it like she owned the place.

If you weren't getting treatment done at this office, you were crazy because you wanted to just because she was sitting in front of you. But from day one, Irma resisted structure. She would roll in just after huddle, started eating breakfast from a paper bag, hair undone, blouse, wrinkled.  Meanwhile, I was trying to bring consistency systems, accountability, all the things that keep and make a practice healthy.

We clashed, of course. One morning I asked her to step into my office and I said, Irma, you are incredible with patients, but I want to help you represent yourself and this office at the level you deserve. The way we show up is the way people decide what kind of care they will get. She nodded politely, but her eyes said, who do you think you are?

I wasn't mad. I just saw potential in her. That word potential. It would become a theme I learned to hold onto more carefully. Months passed, and slowly she began to change. She would arrive on time. She looked a little more polished. She started getting her nails done, and we would compare our nails to each other.

Her outfits were clean, her hair looked beautiful. She would have the front desk area looking beautiful before the first patient walked in. When I pulled reports, her collections were on point, prepayments, secured follow-ups, logged claims, clean, you name it.

Our schedule stayed full because of Irma. If I opened charts that were from a previous day, they were immaculate. If I pulled charts from a month ago, they were immaculate. There were no claims. Aging over 30 days. Everything was balanced and perfect and complete and inside I would be thinking, this is the Irma I see when I close my eyes.

This is why I keep believing in her because she has the it factor. I truly thought if I could just encourage her enough every single time we spoke, she would always see herself the way I saw her. But here's the truth. You can't make someone love themselves into existence. You can only create the space for them to decide to rise.

Fast forward to 2011 By now, I had been promoted and I oversaw several locations at Irma's office. We had just hired a new manager. One morning I stopped by for a visit. I had my usual checklist in hand, and I was doing my audits. Before I could even set my coffee down at the desk, I was gonna take over for the day.

The new manager pulled me aside with a shaky voice, and her arms crossed, and I could just tell that the energy was off. She said, Sarah Beth, I think that Irma came to work and she had been drinking. She sideswiped my car in the parking lot, left, then came back and parked somewhere else.

I've already called the police to file a report. My stomach dropped. Not because I thought that Irma was guilty, but because I couldn't imagine her actually doing that. There was no footage, no video cameras in the parking lot. There was no photos, there was no witnesses.

It was just suspicion. There wasn't even damage on Irma's car. There was only damage on her car. I actually walked out to the parking lot myself, and I circled both cars. There wasn't anything conclusive really. So I went back inside and I said, gently, but firmly. I understand you're upset, but without evidence, we can't accuse someone.

So let's just slow down and I'm asking you not to file a report yet against another team member. If you wanna file a police report that this happened and you don't know how it happened or whatever, then you're welcome to do that. But you can't just go accusing someone without actually having proof. Now, was that the right call?

Probably not, but in the moment I wanted to protect Irma and I couldn't find any reason that it was her fault. I really wanted to believe the best. Later I pulled her into the consultation room and I said, Irma, I don't know what happened out there. I don't know if it's true or not, but I can't in good conscience.

Let another team member take you down without proof. If there had been real evidence, it would be different, but today I'm standing with you. She started crying. I'll never forget it. She hugged me and that conversation is cemented into something between us only she knew I would go to bat for her for anything.

Fast forward 2016, a few years later, I was now overseeing operations company wide. Irma submitted a time off request. Nothing unusual until I noticed the dates overlapped, payroll deadlines, and I needed to know what coverage we were gonna have. And I said, Hey Irma, what is this time off for? I just wanna make sure that we have coverage.

And I'm not sure that I was even legally allowed to ask that question, but I did. It just kind of came out of my mouth, like on accident. I guess maybe intentionally, I don't know. Irma says, I, I have court, and I said, court for what? And quietly she whispered A DUI. And that's how I found out, not from a frantic call at night, just a normal request that unraveled into something serious.

Company policy was clear, certain offenses could disqualify employment depending on your role. So I had to go to the CEO. I met with my CEO and I told her what was going on and she said, you've known her the longest. Should we make an exception? I said, yes, she's worth it and I'll take responsibility for her.

And I meant that we drew up a performance and accountability plan. No driving for work, no alcohol on duty, mandatory counseling, punctuality, checks, weekly progress meetings. And for a while, Irma thrived. Again, her numbers were stellar. Her attitude was sharp. Her work ethic was back. And I remember auditing her site and thinking.

She's the comeback story we needed here.

As our group expanded, we kept opening new locations and she was one of the first I recommended for a transfer, not to actually be an office manager, but to go and start new practices because she really understood and believed in what I was teaching, and she grasped onto our SOPs like nobody I've ever seen in my life.

And honestly, when I saw her falter, when I saw things start to slip. I could bring her back, like there was just some sort of magnetic energy that I had with her that made her go back to where she needed to be.

I also believed that a change of scenery would help her grow. Well, it didn't. The reports started creeping in later rival. Poor communication, tension with coworkers coming to work with a wrinkly brow. I visited one morning unannounced, and she looked exhausted. Her hair was unbred.

Her outfit was completely wrinkled, like she had literally pulled out of a hamper. The leadership had already met and voted to terminate her, and again, I stood up. I said, give me one more chance. With her 60 days, all handle her coaching personally. They reluctantly agreed. I built a plan, daily check-ins, weekly reviews, small wins, celebrated.

And some weeks she soared and others she spiraled. I'd sit in my car after meetings with her heading to another location, and I remember my hands on the steering wheel, whispering to myself, you can't want this more than she does Sarah Beth. But I did. I wanted it so badly for her, for the company, for the story to end in redemption.

  📍 Now we're gonna fast forward a few more years. . By 2019, I had been building my own growing brand, the one that would become my largest company. And when I started hiring, I offered Irma a job, remote work, flexible hours growth potential. She's always earned a shot with me.

And at first it was wonderful. She was upbeat, responsive, grateful. Then the cracks appeared. Little things, late check-ins, missed deliverables. Then complaints from my staff started coming in. Staff that had been with me far along before she was, and they said, Sarah Beth, she's messaging me all hours of the night.

She's asking me to finish her work. She's telling me you said things that you didn't say. She's lying about her productivity. I told myself it was just adjustment pains until I saw messages she had sent to former employees criticizing me, mocking our processes, offering our clients to work with her directly for cheaper.

That was betrayal in its purest form. I scheduled a meeting. And I said, Irma, I've defended you more times than I can count. I've believed in you, but I can't ignore this. We have verified messages to our team members, verified messages in our clients. You've reached out to misrepresentations of your work.

She responded with, I didn't think it was that big of a deal. Everybody does it. No, not here, Irma, not under my roof. I have built this company with integrity , and I cannot compromise that for anyone. 

I remember a long silence that was almost unbearable, and I wanted to break it. Then the sadness was just so heavy. I could feel it in my chest. I said, Irma, I'm ending your employment effective today. This isn't punishment, it's protection for our team, our clients, and for you, because you deserve the space to find who you really are.

She cried. I felt tears welling up because I loved and cared for her so deeply. When we ended that call, it felt like 10 years of memories followed her right out the door. I sat by myself for a little bit that evening. My light dimmed, my laptop still open, and I remember whispering under my breath, what did I miss?

What could I have done differently? And the truth is that probably nothing. You can mentor skill, but you can't manufacture self-worth or self-care. You can offer grace, but grace without boundaries becomes chaos, and sometimes the most loving thing you can do is to let go. Irma's story isn't the only situation that I've had to let someone go that I cared very deeply for and I invested a lot of time in.

She also isn't the only story of people who have betrayed me and try to steal business or sabotage my business. I've had people as close as family, and as far away as just acquaintances all line up to do the same. But Irma's story is another story that taught me a little bit about betrayal.

And what I know about betrayal is that potential is meaningless without ownership. Charisma without integrity. Corrodes culture, forgiveness doesn't always include access. And you can release people without resentment, letting her go hurt more than any professional breakup I had ever faced at this point in my career, because it wasn't just an employee.

It was someone I had championed, I had believed in, I had loved as a human being. But leadership isn't just about building people up. It's also about knowing when you've reached the limit of your assignment in someone's story. And I think maybe you need to hear that too. When betrayal happens, leaders often swing between rage and guilt.

Neither one helps you heal. Here's what does, number one, state the facts, not the feelings on this date. This action violated this policy. Number two, stay anchored in your values, not your emotions. Number three, close the door cleanly. I wish you well and we are moving forward separately. Number four, protect your people and your peace.

Number five, grieve but don't grovel. And number six, keep going. In my very first episode of no silver Spoons, I said that grace can live inside grit. Back then, I didn't understand how true that would actually become. The good in this story is what followed. I had a stronger culture in my own brand. I had healthier hires, clearer expectations.

And me as a leader who finally learned the difference between helping and holding on, and I think those are the best moments of this episode. This week's tool is a mindset worksheet, a one page resource that you can print or paste into your phone's notes. Inside you'll find more affirmations and even a few screen captures that you're gonna wanna keep.

These are going to be your daily keep going. Reminders. They're short truths to reset your mind. When you feel the sting of disappointment, things like I release what is not mine to carry, or My piece is proof of progress or boundaries are bridges, not walls, or I can lead with love and still let go. This worksheet will be used when you're tempted to replay old conversations or question your worth.

It's your quick grab tool for clarity and courage. Practical, faith centered in most ways, and realistic enough to fit in the middle of your workday. All of my digital downloads with the Keep Going Series for all listeners are just $5. When you use the code in the show notes, make sure you're following at No Silver Spoons podcast on Instagram for early access to every tool, every extras, and when our episodes drop, you'll get all that information in the broadcast channel titled, keep going.

This week, my invitation to you is simple. , When someone walks away or when you finally have to open the door and let them, don't see it as failure. See it as faith. You are not crumbling under discomfort.

You are thriving through it. Your future self depends on your ability to keep going when your heart still aches. Because in leadership and in life, peace isn't found in holding on tighter. It's found in learning when to let go. We're four weeks into this 12 week journey, eight weeks left to grow, stretch, and keep going together.

If you'd like to sponsor an episode or partner with us on our mission, please visit dentistry support.com/keep going. I'm Sarah Beth Herman, and I'll see you next week for week five, rebuilding Trust after the Break. Until then. Release with love, lead with strength, and keep going. I'll  📍 catch you on the next episode.