it’s better to win people over than to try to win over them.

If someone insulted you yesterday and needed your help today, would you let resentment make the decision for you?

I’ve had that moment more than once in my career. And every time, it taught me something about who I was — and who I refused to become.

I started in retail at 18, seasonal part‑time during Christmas of ’75. I worked my way up through different stores, different roles, different cities. Eventually I became one of the youngest store managers at 28, and later the youngest district manager at 36. But long before any of that, I learned how easy it is to let emotion steer the wheel.

At one point, I left retail to become a regional sales manager for a company that supplied bike parts to discount chains across the Northeast. Good job, good money, terrible for a young family. I was gone too much. So I called my old boss and asked to come back.

He said yes. A few of my peers did not.

They made it clear they resented the fact that I was rehired. That was my first reminder that people don’t always clap when you walk back into the room.

Then came the next test.

During my first two weeks as a store manager, my assistant manager pulled me aside and told me — flat out — that she didn’t think I deserved the promotion. We had worked together years earlier as part‑timers, so this wasn’t coming from a stranger. This was someone who knew me.

Picture that moment. First day in a job I’d worked years to earn. I was proud. I was excited. I was taking over the highest‑performing store in the company. And here I was, being told I didn’t deserve to be there.

I could’ve picked up the phone, called my boss, and had her transferred out by the end of the week.

Years later, it happened again.

On my first visit to one of my stores as a district manager, a store manager I had personally recommended for promotion told me he believed the only reason I got promoted was because the director of stores liked me. He likely wouldn’t have been promoted at all if I hadn’t pushed for him.

And again, I had the authority to make one phone call and move him out.

Three different moments. Three different chances to let pride, anger, or ego make the call.

A lot of people do exactly that. They wait for the power to shift, then they swing back. They remember every slight. They cash in every grudge.

But leadership taught me something different.

The real question in those moments isn’t, “How do I get even?” It’s, “What outcome actually moves things forward?”

Do you react for the moment, or respond for the future?

In all three cases, I chose the future.

I didn’t hold grudges against the peers who resented my return. Years later, when one of them worked for me as a district manager, I judged her by the job she was doing then — not by how she felt about me years earlier.

I didn’t remove the assistant manager who told me I didn’t deserve my promotion. I asked her to give me the chance to prove myself. We went on to succeed together.

I didn’t transfer the store manager who questioned my district manager promotion. I supported him, worked with him, and later, when that company closed and I moved on to another retailer, I even recommended him there.

That’s why I’ve always believed it’s better to win people over than to try to win over them.

One path feeds your ego for a minute. The other builds trust, loyalty, and long‑term success.

And here’s the part most people miss: Revenge feels good for a moment. Loyalty pays you back for years.

When you manage people, that difference matters. Because the associate who once doubted you might become the associate who helps you hit every number, turn around a struggling store, or build a team you’re proud of.

Resentment never built anything. But leadership does — one decision at a time