SAILING HANNAH

(and the people who helped shape it)

Not the job title. Not the deadlines. Not the endless list of deliverables.

But the version of me that’s being shaped by responsibility, pressure, pace and the privilege of being trusted with something that genuinely matters.

And the truth is, this isn’t the first time I’ve felt my direction shift because of the people around me.

Some of you might have seen my Fieri post and thought it was just a moment; a nice memory, a chapter from a previous life. But for me, Fieri was a turning point. It was where I learned how to tell a story with structure, how to communicate with purpose, and how to use my voice with intent rather than instinct.

It was also where I met Adam. Watching him work up close reframed how I think about communication. Not as performance, but as responsibility. Not about being heard, but about understanding how words land, what they open up, and what they quietly close down.

Because years later, in a very different role and a very different environment, I find myself carrying that same awareness. Decisions are no longer theoretical. Words travel. Intent matters. And the weight of what you say and don’t say is felt far beyond the room you’re in.

This job hasn’t just given me more responsibility. It’s sharpened my sense of consequence.

And then there were the leaders who showed me what leadership can look like when it’s done well.

Working closely with people like Harrie and Sarah genuinely changed how I understood leadership. Not as control, but as clarity. Not as ego, but as service. Not as noise, but as presence. They helped me see that the strongest leaders don’t need to dominate a room to shape it; they raise standards, they build something that lasts, and most importantly they protect their people.

I’ll never forget one rescue in particular. It was properly tricky – high pressure, high consequence, and the kind of situation where things can unravel fast if people start panicking or fighting for control.

But what I saw in that moment was the opposite.

Procedure in practice. Calm. Clear. Everyone knowing their role. Leadership creating the space for the team to think, decide and act, without being undermined or second-guessed. There was trust, and you could feel it in how the whole team moved together.

That moment stayed with me because it showed me what good leadership looks like when it actually matters: not taking over, but holding the standard, backing your people, and letting them lead where they’re strongest.

And the more I grow into leadership myself, the more I realise this:

Leadership isn’t just about delivery. It’s about how you show up while you deliver.

It’s about setting the tone when things are calm, and being the steady one when things aren’t. It’s about protecting your team from unnecessary chaos where you can, but also being honest when it’s going to be hard. It’s about backing people publicly, coaching them privately, and making sure they never feel alone when the pressure hits.

And it’s the small things that matter more than people realise. Clarity. Consistency. Following through. Saying thank you. Giving credit properly. Creating space for people to do their best work, and trusting them to do it.

I’ve also learnt something else over time: delivery cultures live or die by the leadership around them.

I’m not interested in environments where criticism is treated like a personality trait, and accountability is optional. I’m not available for commentary without contribution, or standards without support.

Because it’s easy to have an opinion when you’re not carrying the weight of the work.

Real leadership shows up with clarity, consistency, and action. It backs people when it’s hard, not just when it’s convenient. And it understands that if you want something better, you don’t just point at the gaps – you help close them.

That’s why the SCARF model has really stayed with me; Status. Certainty. Autonomy. Relatedness. Fairness.

It’s a simple reminder that leadership isn’t just about what we decide – it’s about how people experience working with us while we decide it. And when leaders get those fundamentals right, you feel it immediately. Teams become more connected. More confident. More resilient. And more able to deliver, even under pressure.

And then there’s teamwork – the kind that doesn’t just make you better at your job, but makes you better as a person.

Rich, Amy, KP and Tom taught me what real support looks like. The kind where you don’t just share tasks, you share pressure. Where you don’t just celebrate the wins, you carry each other through the messy middle.

Because the truth is, the best teams don’t run on talent alone.

They run on psychological safety.
They run on trust.
They run on people knowing they matter.

And if I’m being honest, one of the biggest lessons I’ve had to learn over the years is that performance isn’t the same as sustainability.

Abs and Ross taught me something I didn’t want to hear at the time, but needed: you can love what you do and still burn out doing it. You can be committed and still need boundaries. You can be strong and still need rest.

Taking care of yourself isn’t a reward at the end. It’s part of the job if you want to keep doing it properly.

All of that has shaped how I show up now.

Because this role is stretching me in new ways.

It’s making me more decisive. More comfortable with complexity. More willing to step forward when things are uncertain. It’s teaching me how to hold a vision while managing a hundred moving parts… and how to keep going even when I’m tired beyond anything I expected.

And it’s also teaching me how to speak to audiences that matter.

Not for attention. Not for personal profile. Not because I want to be “heard”.

But because the Para Inclusive community deserves to be seen.

The story is about the sailors who are building confidence, independence and identity through this sport. It’s about the nations fighting for opportunity. It’s about coaches, volunteers, families and teams who make inclusion real in practice, not just in theory. It’s about a community that has kept showing up, kept pushing, and kept believing, even when it would have been easier to stop.

And there is so much power in that.

So this is me, at the start of the year, making a choice.

To keep building.
To keep leading with clarity and care.
To protect my energy and my joy, not as a luxury, but as a responsibility.

Because the work is too important to be done by people who burn out, disappear, or get ground down by noise.

I’m not here for noise. I’m here for impact.

And if you care about inclusion, don’t just applaud it. Help build it.

Happy Sailing,
Hannah