Be the Front Row

Everyone wants a front row.

The people who show up.
The ones who are locked in.
Listening. Reacting. Supporting.

The ones who make you feel like what you’re saying actually matters.

I wrote about that already—how the front row matters more than you think.

But I’ve been sitting with something else lately. It’s easy to be grateful for the front row. It’s harder to become one. I know what it feels like to have people show up for me.

  • Tiffany is always there—asking questions, taking videos, capturing the moments I don’t even realize are happening. She’s not just watching. She’s amplifying.

  • Kate shows up to sessions on topics she’s not even using right now. Still learning. Still listening. Still there. That’s not convenience—that’s intention.

  • Jacob is in it before, during, and after. Cheering me on. Wearing AMBUSH On Air like it’s his own. That kind of energy sticks with you.

And then there are the quiet moments.

  • I locked eyes with Michelle once during a session. She wasn’t just nodding along—she was doing the work. Filling out the worksheet. Real time. No waiting. No “I’ll get to this later.” She changed her entire day to take action.

That’s the front row.

Not passive. Not performative.
Active. Present. Invested.

And then there’s the broader circle.

My Microsoft marketing network.

The people who keep showing up.
Learning with me. Teaching me. Challenging me.

It’s not one moment. It’s consistency.

And if I’m being honest—that’s where this started to shift for me.

Because here’s the uncomfortable part:

I benefit from a front row.

But I haven’t always been one.

It’s easy to think supportive thoughts and never say them. It’s easy to scroll past someone you respect and assume they know. It’s easy to tell yourself you’ll “catch the replay” or “reach out later” or “engage next time.” But that’s not how this works. The front row doesn’t happen later. It happens in the moment.

So I’ve been asking myself a different question:

Where am I holding back from showing up for other people the way they show up for me?

And the answers aren’t big, dramatic gaps.

They’re small misses.

Moments I didn’t comment.
Sessions I didn’t fully engage in.
People I admire that I never told.

That’s where community either grows—or quietly stalls.

So here’s the shift I’m making.

If I think it, I say it.

If I’m learning from someone, they’ll know.
If I respect someone’s work, I’ll show it.
If I’m in the room, I’m actually in the room.

No more passive appreciation.

Because community isn’t built on content.

It’s built on moments.

Eye contact.
Energy.
Presence.

The front row isn’t reserved for a few people.

It’s a choice.

And if you’ve ever had someone show up for you like that—you already know how powerful it is.

So here’s the question I’m leaving you with:

Who’s been your front row?

And are you being that person for someone else?

Community isn’t built in the spotlight.

It’s built in the front row.

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The Front Row Matters More Than You Think