Over the past 15+ years running All Nation Restoration in Austin, Texas, I’ve learned a lot about restoration—of buildings, of people, and of trust. But one of the more unexpected lessons has nothing to do with mold, water, or fire.
It has to do with mediation.
As I built my company and began leading with consistency, wisdom, and solid decision-making, something strange started to happen. People—coworkers, employees, friends, family members, even folks going through will and probate disputes—started coming to me to mediate their problems.
At first, I took it as a compliment. I thought, “Well, they must think I’m good at this. I’ll help.”
What I didn’t realize is this:
When someone asks you to step into a dispute you’re not involved in, it’s usually because there’s significant opposition, deep dysfunction, and zero agreement between the parties. You are being called in to step on a battlefield, not just to pass judgment—but to absorb the consequences.
Early on, I ignorantly—and arrogantly—said “yes” to almost every request.
I thought I could fix it. I thought my advice, presence, or authority would calm the waters.
But over and over again, I found myself blamed, resented, or pulled into drama I never signed up for.
I wasn’t a lawyer. I wasn’t a therapist. I wasn’t a judge.
And most importantly, I had no authority—especially with the opposing party who didn’t invite me in and didn’t respect the role I was being asked to play.
After a few too many of these backfiring situations, I decided:
No more.
No more mediation. No more inserting myself into drama. No more solving problems I didn’t create and can’t control.
I took a hard line—one that I held for several years.
But as with all things in leadership, my stance evolved.
These days, I sometimes agree to get involved—but only under a very specific set of conditions. This structure serves two purposes: it gives clarity and boundaries, and it filters out the people who aren’t serious about resolving anything.
Here’s what I now require before I consider stepping in:
Sound excessive? That’s the point.
It’s a kinder, more professional way of saying:
“Take your drama somewhere else unless you’re both actually serious.”
So far, no one has taken me up on it.
And that alone tells me everything I need to know.
Sometimes leadership is less about what you say, and more about how you say it.
Flat-out denying someone help can damage relationships—especially if emotions are high. But placing structured, integrity-driven conditions on that help accomplishes two things:
And that’s the real lesson here:
People seek your help because you’ve shown the character traits they lack—wisdom, clarity, honesty, and resilience.
They’re in their mess because they haven’t practiced those traits. And they want to borrow yours—without doing the work.
If you’re leading a company, this will happen to you.
People will ask for your help in situations you have no business being in.
Don’t be flattered. Don’t be reckless.
And remember:
You can’t fix every broken situation—but you can protect what you’ve worked so hard to build.
Stay strong. Stay focused. Stay in business.
