Lessons from My Mom: The Susan Scale of Life
Losing my beloved mom is incredibly painful, and even though she lived with dementia, that doesn’t make it any easier. The emptiness is real. But if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that my mom left me with a lifetime of lessons—her own personal playbook for life.
She always said, “If you’re not prepared, don’t show up.”
She did the research, learned the facts, and knew the details—because being prepared wasn’t just important, it was essential. If you want to have a seat at the table, you have to be ready to own it. That’s how you earn respect. That’s how you open doors—not just for yourself, but for others, too.
She also had two phrases that have stuck with me forever:
➡ “Don’t be an also-ran.”
An also-ran is someone who just shows up but never really competes—someone who exists in the background rather than stepping up to make a difference. My mom believed in being in the race to win, not just to participate. Be bold. Be excellent. Be someone who makes an impact.
➡ “Don’t be a four-flusher.”
A four-flusher is someone who pretends to be something they’re not—someone who talks a big game but can’t back it up. My mom had no patience for fake confidence or empty promises. She valued integrity, hard work, and showing up as your authentic self.
So, how do we actually show up for each other?
Cheer Loudly & Publicly
It’s easy to support someone in private, but real support is shouting each other’s names in rooms we’re not in. Celebrate another person’s wins—comment on their post, recommend them for an opportunity, tell people how great they are.
Mentor & Guide
If you’ve figured something out, share it. Too often, women are left to navigate success alone. Be the person who opens doors, offers real advice, and helps others avoid the mistakes you made.
Don’t Just Clap—Help
Did a friend launch a business? Buy something. Did a colleague go for a promotion? Advocate for them. Words are great, but action is what changes the game.
Stop the Judgment
Motherhood, career choices, relationships—women get judged for everything. Let’s stop picking each other apart and celebrate the fact that we all have different paths.
Remember: We All Win Together
When one friend rises, they’re not taking your spot—they’re proving what’s possible. If we all truly supported each other, imagine the power we’d have.
Say it. Share it. Show up.
So here’s my challenge to all of you—before this month is over, proudly acknowledge another woman’s greatness. And don’t forget to celebrate yourself, too.
More Life Lessons from My Mom
You can’t expect people to do what you would do, or you’ll live a life of constant disappointment.
Do what feels right for you with a genuine heart.
It’s not about what others are doing—it’s about what you’re doing.
Your actions are what make the difference.
If you’re not adding value, you’re probably not relevant.
Adding value looks different in every situation—personal, professional, or even a random act of kindness. Find ways to contribute.
Have fun!
My mom was the funniest, most entertaining person I’ve ever known—and I’ve been around famous comedians! Her wit and humor were magnetic. People wanted to be around her because she made life fun.
Be Kind. Be Thoughtful. Show Up.
When I was in my 20s, I once told my mom I didn’t feel like going to a friend’s wedding. She let me know, in no uncertain terms, that it was a shitty decision. “If you get invited, you go. Be a good friend. Don’t be a jerk.” She was right. I went, and I was grateful.
Be accountable.
I never drank or did drugs, not because I didn’t have access to it—I did. But I never wanted to disappoint my mom or disrupt her day. I knew how much she sacrificed for me, and I wasn’t going to waste that by making dumb choices.
Look the part.
In 10th grade, my mom and my grandfather showed up for parent-teacher meetings. My grandfather’s limousine pulled up, and my mom stepped out in a white Christian Dior coat with a hot pink lining—looking like a movie star. She believed in showing up fully—prepared, polished, and present. And she never let me forget it.
Own your mistakes.
I was the kid who actually wanted my mom to chaperone school dances and host pre-prom parties. But yes, one time, I threw a party when she was away. The house got a little damaged. And you know what? She didn’t yell—she simply told me I had disappointed her. That crushed me. I never threw another party again.
She was chic without trying.
My mom had this effortless cool about her. She named our white standard poodle “Truffles”—after a rare French mushroom I had never heard of, much less eaten. At the time, I had no idea what a truffle was, but looking back, I love how ahead of the curve she was. She was elegant but never flashy, stylish but never overdone. Just effortlessly cool. And now? Of course, I love truffles. She was always ahead of the game.
Speak the language of sports.
In 1981, our giant white standard poodle, Truffles, broke loose and started chasing a runner down the street. That runner? Former Secretary of State Alexander Haig. Next thing I knew, three armed men were at our front door. Without missing a beat, my mom said, “My 12-year-old is a national security threat?” She defended me like the lawyer she was—then started talking football with them. That moment taught me the power of sports as a universal language.
The Susan Scale of Life
Do the work
Don’t do dumb stuff
Get up early
Eat pasta
Stay away from too much sugar
Look like a lady
Wave and smile at people
Never show up empty-handed
Write thank-you notes
Tell people you love them
Be a great tipper
There are a million or a billion stories I could tell about my mom—how she was the best mother, grandmother, friend, boss, advocate, and advisor.
I will crave her voice, her touch, and her guidance for the rest of my life. But I know I was lucky. I got to learn from the best. And now, I’ll take a page from her playbook and do what she taught me:
➡ Get it done.
➡ Answer the damn phone.
➡ Wear the good stuff.
➡ Celebrate your loved ones.
➡ Listen more than you talk.
➡ And most of all—believe that you can do anything you want, as long as you put in the effort.
Because my mom? She graduated from law school at 40 years old.
And if she could do that, I can do anything. And so can you.
