When I was a brand-new manager at Pacific Bell, running a 411 Information group in the Peninsula, my results were coming in somewhere in the high 70s. My peers were posting high 90s, and my boss ridiculed me for it constantly, in front of everyone, over and over again. She told me she was going to bust me back to non-management.
I called my dad in tears one night. I had just bought a car and was paying $96 a month for it, which was everything I had. I was on my own with zero safety net. If I lost my job, I lost my car. I lost everything.
My dad, a Stanford graduate and metallurgist, said something I’ve carried with me for 40 years: “Lose everything, but don’t lose your integrity. To thine own self be true.”
Six months later, the chief special agent walked in and removed that manager and both of my peers. They had been cheating and changing their numbers the entire time.
Your moral compass is your longest-term asset
That early experience put me on a trajectory I could never have predicted. The company saw that I could keep my moral compass in the middle of that kind of adversity, and it opened doors. Within a few years, I was leading teams of 350 people and working with every major tech company in Silicon Valley.
But here’s what I want agents to understand: nobody gave me credit for integrity in that moment. At that moment, I looked like the worst performer in the group. I could have gone to the wonderful manager who had promoted me and believed in me, and said, “they’re cheating, they’re changing the numbers.” I didn’t do that. I thought, that’s not the right move. I need to take care of this and prove I can do it on my own.
The truth is, the people watching you are often different from the people pressuring you. And the ones watching are the ones who shape your long-term career.
If you’re an agent right now and it feels like someone else is getting ahead by cutting corners or misrepresenting their production numbers, stay on your path. The truth has a way of surfacing, and when it does, your reputation is what’s still standing. I’ve seen it play out again and again in this industry.
Stop taking it personally (here’s how)
Too many agents take everything personally. I did, too, for years. When I’d go on a listing appointment and not get it, I used to be devastated. What’s wrong with me? Why didn’t they pick me?
Two things changed how I process that now.
First, I started thinking about it from a completely different angle. If we all pray for success, or put our intentions out into the universe, whatever framework works for you, we’re asking for good things to come our way. But the universe doesn’t grant me everything. Sometimes it’s just somebody else’s turn. When I tell myself, “it’s not my turn,” it puts the whole thing in a different context. It takes the sting out of it because it’s no longer about what’s wrong with me.
Second, I started following up every loss with one question: what have I learned from this? Maybe I should have said to the sellers, “You’re going to be interviewing other agents. If something comes up that I didn’t address, or you have a concern I didn’t cover, please come back to me, because I’m open to that conversation.”
Each time I miss something, or each time it’s painful, I believe the universe is trying to teach me something. So I step back and ask, okay, what am I missing?
And that willingness to look honestly at what happened, without spinning it or making excuses, is integrity turned inward.
When you approach it that way, it becomes less emotional, less defensive. It turns every loss into information you can use for the next listing appointment. And over time, you realize those losses made you better at the wins.
Resilience is a skill, and adversity is the training ground
I lost my mother when I was 9 years old. By the time I was a teenager, I had been through several deaths. My grandmother, my mom’s mother, raised us for five years after that. She was 76 years old, taking on three kids.
I share this because people hear about my attitude and think, “Well, that’s just Lynn, she’s always so positive.” And I love that, I really do.
But the truth is, this isn’t a personality I was born with. It’s something I built, over time, from hard experiences. Every difficult thing, if you’re willing to look at it honestly, teaches you something about how to handle the next one. Starting your day with gratitude ensures that you will stay positive even in the most difficult of circumstances. The resilience I have now, came from decades of practice, starting with the hardest possible lessons when I was too young to have any tools for processing them. All of us can learn it.
And the foundation of that resilience is the same thing my dad was talking about. Staying honest with yourself about where you are, even when it’s uncomfortable.
For agents going through a tough stretch, and we all have them, here’s what works for me. On the worst days, I think about my best day. I picture getting up early in Maui and walking that two-and-a-half-mile Wailea beach walk along the coast. That’s my happy place. Having a clear picture of what a good day feels like makes the bad ones more temporary.
That kind of perspective changes how you walk into every room. When you show up to a listing appointment genuinely grateful to be there, people feel it. When a client is stressed about a lowball offer or a deal falling through, and you can bring a calm, grounded presence, because you’ve kept your own stuff in perspective, they remember that.
They tell their friends about the agent who made them feel safe during one of the most stressful transactions of their lives. And when you keep your integrity through the seasons where the numbers don’t look good, you’re building something that compounds over decades.
The long game rewards the ones who stay
My career went from a job that paid less than a janitor at Pacific Bell to first female vice president, to leading the first internet sales force for California and Nevada, to building a real estate business that puts me in the Chairman’s Club every year and ranks me in Real Trends nationally.
This happened because I kept showing up, kept humble & learning, and kept my moral compass pointed in the same direction, even when it would have been easier to do what everybody else was doing.
If you’re in a season right now where it feels like the numbers are rigged and the competition is unfair, I want you to hear what my dad told me on the phone that night: lose everything, but don’t lose your integrity. The people watching you, the ones who matter, are paying closer attention than you think.