Remembered Well

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Can you share a positive example of where you’ve felt loved?

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I’ve learned that being loved isn’t always a warm feeling. Sometimes it comes as a question. “Are you going to stay on?”

When people ask that, they’re not only asking about a contract. They’re saying: we’ve grown used to you. We trust you. We’d rather not imagine this place without you.

I tend to commit for the long haul. I spent twelve years in my last organisation in different roles. After I left, someone remarked to a friend—almost casually—that everybody loved me there. I still get invited back to celebrations, and every time I return I’m reminded that the relationships weren’t merely transactional. You weren’t only useful. You were also valued.

The role before that was sixteen years. Again, I enjoy going back for special events. It’s always refreshing to see people, to pick up conversations as if they’ve been paused rather than ended. There’s a particular kind of affection in being remembered well.

My current contract finishes in two years, and I’ve been open about transitioning well. Even so, the question keeps coming. “Will you continue?” I feel loved by it, because it’s evidence of belonging. It tells me that the work has mattered, and that my presence has been experienced as a gift rather than simply a function.

But this is where love gets complicated—in a good way.

Because there’s a kind of love that holds on. And there’s a kind of love that releases.

I don’t think it would be best for the community if I stayed indefinitely. Leadership has seasons. Places need fresh eyes. They need younger energy. They need someone who can build on what has gone before, honouring the legacy in the process.

In a relay race, the point isn’t to run forever. The point is to run your leg well, and then make the cleanest handover you can—so the whole team keeps moving.

So yes, I feel loved when people ask me if I’ll stay. And I want to love them back by letting go well: preparing carefully, handing over cleanly, and making space for whoever comes next.

Maybe that’s the quietest sign of love in a workplace: not only that people would like to keep you, but that you care enough to pass the baton at the right time.