There was a time not long ago when two promising team members, Davis and Dante, started at the same busy hospitality venue known as The Grove.

The Grove wasn’t easy. It demanded discipline, accountability, and adaptability. It moved fast, evolved often, and expected a lot. But for those willing to lean in, it was also a place where careers were built, friendships were formed, and growth happened daily- it was required.

Davis and Dante came in young and hungry, college seniors with charm, swagger,  intelligence, and seemingly limitless untapped potential. They learned quickly and rose fast. Both fell in love with the rhythm of the work. But as weeks turned into months and novelty faded, the path ahead began to look different for each of them.

Dante stayed curious. He asked questions. Took notes. Stayed after shifts to learn new things and held onto feedback, even when it stung. He began journaling, not for perfection, but for pattern recognition, trying to understand what made his best days better.

Davis, on the other hand, began to drift. Not from the work, but from the habits that fueled the work. He wasn’t sleeping. He scrolled late into the night, numbing his mind instead of resting it. He’d show up foggy, frustrated, and slowly the spark that made him stand out began to dim.

It wasn’t just the fatigue. It was the mindset.  

Every change felt personal. Every decision felt like a slight. He stopped seeking answers and started looking for allies, people to validate his growing frustration. And the more he surrounded himself with complaints, the more justified he felt in voicing his own.

Then came news of Echelon Social, a sleek new venue just a few miles down the road. Big money. Lofty promises. “Laid-back culture” was the tagline. To Davis, it sounded like a fresh start, the clean slate he’d been waiting for.

So, he left.

There was no scene. No grand sendoff. Just a quiet goodbye from a team that had already noticed he was halfway gone.

Dante stayed. He kept working the hard shifts, leaned into the hard conversations, and stuck with the process, even when it was uncomfortable. He built new routines. He focused on his sleep, his diet, his presence. Not because someone told him to, but because he knew what was on the other side of discipline.

Eventually, he earned a leadership role. Not for being loud or flashy, but for being consistent. Because when things got tough, Dante didn’t retreat, he leaned in.

Echelon Social opened to great fanfare, neon lights, DJ sets, influencer events. But beneath the surface, the foundation was soft. There was no culture, just noise. Leadership avoided conflict. Team members were praised for potential but never coached for growth. The loudest voices became the decision-makers. It didn’t take long before the cracks began to show.

Within nine months, the “mirage” of paradise had collapsed as Echelon Social quietly shut its doors.

Several months later, Davis, now on his third job since leaving The Grove, began to see the pattern. Every venue had its issues, sure. But the common denominator wasn’t the buildings. It wasn’t the bosses. It wasn’t the work. It was him. The same frustrations followed him from place to place because he’d never taken the time to ask the harder question, what do I need to change about me?

One evening, Davis returned to The Grove as a guest.

He was greeted by a server who had started just after he left. They spoke with pride about the culture, the consistency, and the leadership, especially Dante.

“Best leader I’ve worked for,” they said. “He actually listens, but he also holds us accountable. He cares and he challenges us. This place runs because of people like him.”

Davis smiled. It stung, but it also stirred something deeper.

He found a seat at the bar and ordered his old favorite. The bartender still remembered how to make it. As he sipped, he took in the energy, the flow, the vibe, the ease. It hadn’t gotten easier. The Grove was still demanding. But the team had gotten stronger.

He realized what he had left behind.

The growth he wanted wasn’t on the other side of the street. It was right here, hidden in the discomfort he had once run from.

And in that quiet moment, Davis finally understood:

The grass isn’t greener on the other side. It gets greener when and where you choose to water it.

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Moral:

Adversity doesn’t show who’s failing, it shows who’s ready. The ones who rise aren’t always the fastest or the loudest. They’re the ones who keep showing up, keep listening, and keep growing.  They choose to look in the mirror rather than point fingers to assign blame.  

You can chase comfort, or you can chase growth, but rarely both. And no amount of money, square footage, or “vibe” can make up for a lack of discipline or clarity.

Be mindful of those who only bring problems to your doorstep. Misery loves company, but purpose builds community. The ones who endure are those who bet on their process, not their surroundings.

In every environment, you are either part of the problem or part of the solution. Choose wisely.