Rachel Mae

I was three days into my first-ever Sales Manager onboarding when Brian, the golden boy of the leadership team, locked eyes with me and declared, “I give you three months.” Now, was Brian a clairvoyant genius who understood my spite-fueled ambition at 28, or was he simply a grade-A jerk? Honestly, I could never be sure. But what I do know is that a mere eighteen months later, I may have flashed him the stink eye as I strutted across that stage, clutching my “Manager of the Year” glass like it was my newfound crown.

That first year, I decimated every quota, contest, and success metric typically used to measure a sales manager’s prowess. The numbers painted me as a skilled and effective sales leader, which is why I was both confused and annoyed that bully Brian refused to give me my flowers. After all, in sales, numbers don’t lie… or do they?

There is, however, a bit more to this story. I inherited the company’s top two rockstar Account Executives, who both had a monster year. It was like being handed a winning lottery ticket without even buying a ticket. My biggest contribution? Clearing the path for their success—essentially, I acted more as their sales butler rather than their sales leader. Sure, it’s not nothing, but let’s not pretend I was the one doing all the heavy lifting. As for the rest of my team, their performance was mediocre at best.