I’ll be the first to admit it: I used to rewrite my project manager’s emails. Not because they were wrong—nope, just because I thought my way of saying, “Let’s circle back next week” was somehow superior. That’s how deep in the weeds I was.
I didn’t mean to be a control freak. I just genuinely thought if I didn’t do it myself, it wouldn’t get done right. Whether it was marking up a plat, ordering equipment, or scheduling jobs, I held the reins tight. Tighter than a locked traverse.
But over time—and with a few too many 12-hour days and cold dinners—I realized something: if I didn’t start trusting the people I hired, the only person holding this business back was me.
Letting go is hard. For folks like us—surveyors, small business owners, project managers—it’s not just a job. It’s our name on that map. Our reputation in that boundary line. Every decision, every drawing, every final stamp carries weight, especially in this industry, where precision and integrity are more than just words—they’re requirements.
Still, trying to be the expert on every detail is a recipe for burnout. You end up stretched thin, always in crisis mode, but never truly building anything sustainable. I used to insist on reviewing every job packet before it left the office—checking notes, rechecking markups, making last-minute tweaks in CAD. It wore me out, left my staff second-guessing themselves, and, truth be told, didn’t elevate the quality of our work. The team felt stifled and I was on the edge of exhaustion, micromanaging the details instead of trusting the processes and people I’d put in place.
Eventually, I realized that real strength, especially in technical fields like surveying and project management, comes from systems—not from one person’s endless oversight. When you’re the only one holding all the knowledge, you become the bottleneck, not the backbone. The turning point was seeing that my need to double-check everything sent the wrong message: that I didn’t trust my team to get it right. And that, more than any honest mistake, is what erodes a company’s foundation.
Trusting your team doesn’t mean you’re any less diligent or committed to excellence. It means you’re intentional about building capability, sharing expertise, and creating an environment where everyone has the chance to step up. If you want a stronger company, one ready to adapt and thrive, you have to take the leap and let others own their work—mistakes, victories, and all.
One of the biggest lessons I learned? Don’t give someone responsibility if you won’t also give them the authority to act on it.
I once had a new office coordinator who noticed a billing error on an invoice. She caught it right away—but didn’t fix it. When I asked why, she said, “Well, Gus always handles that.”
That was on me. I’d handed her the job without the trust. Gave her the keys but not the gas.
When you empower someone, truly empower them, you let them own the whole task—not just the grunt work. That builds pride. It builds confidence. And yeah, sometimes it builds mistakes—but we’ll get to that.
I didn’t overhaul my habits overnight. I started small.
Let one of my field leads run the pre-job safety meeting without me standing over his shoulder. Asked the PM to close out a project folder her way, not mine. Gave the admin full control over organizing the equipment inventory.
Each time, something magical happened: the world didn’t end. In fact, things got better. Faster. More efficient. The people I hired started thinking with me instead of waiting for me.
Low-stakes delegation—that’s the trick. Start where the damage can’t be too deep, and let trust grow from there.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Letting go doesn’t mean checking out. I still check in on the big stuff. I still walk through projects, offer guidance, and coach where needed.
But I’m not hovering over keyboards or re-editing call logs. I’ve set up systems—checklists, file templates, shared calendars—that let my team run smoothly without me being a bottleneck.
Trust isn’t just a feeling. It’s a process. You support it with clear communication, the right tools, and space to grow.
Letting go is a skill. Just like running a traverse, drawing a plat, or figuring out which end of the level rod is up. You learn it by doing.
And once you do? You start to see your team for what they really are—not just folks who work for you, but people who work with you. People who can carry the weight, think on their feet, and make you proud.
If your business can’t run without you, you don’t have a business—you have a bottleneck. Build a team that can step up. Trust them to do it. And then go enjoy a hot meal for once.
You’ve earned it.