Dan Hurley Won Everything, and Still Struggled With Self-Doubt.

Dan Hurley, head coach of Uconn Huskies and author

I just finished Never Stop: Life, Leadership, and What It Takes to Be Great, Dan Hurley's memoir with Ian O'Connor.

If you follow college basketball, you probably have an opinion about Dan Hurley.

He's intense, emotional, incredibly competitive and incredibly successful. He led UConn to back-to-back national championships and came incredibly close to winning a third. He's also the guy screaming at referees, getting into it with fans and, at times, looking completely out of control on the sideline.

And he'll be the first one to admit it.

Hurley is remarkably open about the other side of that intensity. He writes about anxiety, depression, panic attacks and years of self-doubt. Even as he became one of the most successful coaches in college basketball, there was still a part of him wondering whether he was good enough.

His father, Bob Hurley Sr., is one of the greatest high school basketball coaches ever. His brother Bobby was a star at Duke, won two national championships and went on to play in the NBA. Dan spent years comparing himself to both of them and wondering where he fit.

You may not have a Hall of Fame father or a national champion brother, but I think a lot of us can relate.

Maybe it's the person who got promoted before you. The organization raising more money than yours. The friend whose business seems to be taking off. Or the person you scroll past on LinkedIn who somehow appears to have everything figured out.

We're really good at comparing our insides to everyone else's highlight reel.

As someone who coaches and develops people, I see versions of this all the time. Talented, successful people can be incredibly hard on themselves. They remember the mistake longer than the compliment. They focus on the goal they missed instead of the five they hit. And as soon as they accomplish something meaningful, they're already focused on whatever comes next.

Hurley's story is a powerful reminder to know your worth and celebrate your wins.

That doesn't mean losing your drive. Hurley's relentlessness is part of what has made him great. But being driven and appreciating what you've accomplished aren't mutually exclusive.

Celebrate the promotion. The new client. The successful campaign. The presentation you were nervous about that went well. Take a minute and let yourself be proud of it.

Then go chase the next thing.

Listen to people you respect.

Another part of Hurley's story that stuck with me was the feedback he's received about his sideline behavior.

Plenty of people have told him to calm down — family, fans, commentators, opponents and probably a few referees who would have preferred he sit down and stop yelling at them.

Then Mike Krzyzewski, Coach K, essentially tells him he needs to get better control of it.

That hits differently.

One of the most important things we can do, both professionally and personally, is surround ourselves with people we respect enough to tell us the truth. Not people who agree with everything we do. People who can say, "You're really good at this, but you need to work on that."

Then we have to be willing to hear it.

One random person criticizing you doesn't mean they're right. But when several people you trust are telling you the same thing, it's probably worth listening.

You don't always get Coach K giving you advice (although that would be awesome). But when feedback comes from someone you deeply respect, take notice.

Find what works for you.

Hurley talks openly about how he's learned to manage everything going on inside his head. Exercise. Meditation. Journaling. Therapy. He's had to figure out how to channel some of the same nervous energy and intensity that helped make him successful.

I think that's an important distinction.

The goal isn't necessarily to change who you are. It's learning how to better manage what comes with being you.

For me, exercise is a huge part of that. I've tried journaling and meditation. Neither has really stuck. Maybe someday they will.

The best tool isn't necessarily the one someone tells you is supposed to work. It's the one you'll actually use.

And let's normalize therapy.

Hurley has been willing to talk openly about getting help, and that matters, especially coming from someone operating in one of the most competitive and traditionally macho environments in sports.

We hire trainers for our bodies, coaches for our golf swings, consultants for our businesses and mentors for our careers. We don't think twice about getting expert help when we want to improve something.

Why should what's happening inside our heads be any different?

There's a lesson here for leaders, too.

Hurley's story also reinforced for me how little we really know about what someone else is carrying.

The person on your team performing at a high level may also be struggling with anxiety. The person who seems incredibly confident may be filled with self-doubt. And the person who's always pushing for more may need someone to remind them how much they've already accomplished.

That's why one of the most important things we can do as leaders is actually know our people.

Check in. Ask how they're doing, and mean it.

Create an environment where someone can say, "I'm struggling," without worrying that you'll suddenly see them differently. And when someone does tell you things are hard, resist the urge to immediately fix everything.

Sometimes you can help solve the problem. Sometimes you can't. And when that's the case, just listen and offer, "Yeah. This sucks. It's hard. How can I help?"

That's not lowering expectations. You can expect a lot from someone and still care deeply about what they're going through.

Maybe that's what I appreciated most about Hurley's story.

Here is someone who has reached the absolute top of his profession while dealing with anxiety, depression, panic attacks and tremendous self-doubt.

Those aren't contradictions.

We tend to look at successful people and assume they've figured out something the rest of us haven't. But success doesn't mean the doubts disappear. It doesn't mean you stop screwing up. And it certainly doesn't mean you stop needing other people.

Success isn't about having everything figured out.

It's knowing yourself a little better. Recognizing your own worth. Surrounding yourself with people who will tell you the truth. Finding the things that help when you're struggling.

And being willing to ask for help when you need it.