By Kerry Frank
November 8, 2025
It always amazes me how many people tell me they want to be a disruptor. I hear it all the time “I’ve got this idea that could change everything.” They’ll lean in, eyes wide with excitement, and then ask me, “So how did you do it?”
If you’ve followed my journey for a while, you already know there was no master plan. No playbook. I was simply climbing the mountain of change one day at a time, learning as I went, fueled by curiosity and persistence.
So, as I sit here in the Caribbean with the ocean stretching out in every shade of blue, I’ve decided to write about disruption. It feels like the right place to pause, look inward, and share what I’ve learned about what it really takes to shake things up.
Change Was My Normal
Growing up, change wasn’t just part of my life, it was my life. We moved constantly. Sometimes without much warning. I didn’t have long term friends, because we never stayed long enough. So, I leaned on my imagination. I invented ways to make life interesting and dreamed about worlds that felt just out of reach.
My sister introduced me to Brené Brown years ago, and her book Braving the Wilderness hit home for me in ways I didn’t expect. Brené writes, “Sometimes the most dangerous thing for kids is the silence that allows them to construct their own stories, stories that almost always cast them as alone and unworthy of love and belonging.”
That line stopped me.
I come from a large family, but as we joke now, it sometimes felt like we grew up in different households. My older sister and I spent our childhood on the move, even living on the mission field, while my younger siblings grew up in the States. My brother hadn’t even seen the ocean until he joined the military. Same parents, different worlds, each of us shaped by our own version of change.
On the next page, Brené writes another line that hit me deeply,”As I look back, I realize I probably owe my career to not belonging.”
That one I felt in my bones.
Like her, I learned early on to study people as a way to adapt. I got good at understanding what made others happy, sometimes better than they understood themselves. But somewhere in that process, I lost parts of me.
Still, that mix, imagination and observation, became my greatest strength. I could see patterns others missed and imagine solutions no one else could. That combination became the foundation of every disruption I’ve ever led.
The Restlessness of Stability
When I married Dude and we finally settled down, I found myself rearranging the furniture every few months. It was the only way I could make peace with staying still. At the time, I didn’t know why. I just knew I needed things to shift. Today, I get it. It was the rhythm of change that had shaped my whole life.
Dude probably still doesn’t fully understand it (and honestly, I can’t blame him). But that restlessness, that need to grow, evolve, and move, is the same instinct that helped me disrupt an entire industry.
You Can’t Disrupt What You Fear
Here’s something I’ve learned after years of watching others say they want to disrupt: if you only eat chicken and pizza, you won’t make it.
Why? Because disruption requires a deep comfort with discomfort.
If you can’t try new foods, new experiences, or step into something unfamiliar without fear, you’re not ready to change the world. It’s like saying you’ve never climbed before, but you’re heading out tomorrow to tackle Mount Everest. What are the odds that climber makes it to the top and back down again?
Change starts small. It’s in the little things, rying something new, maybe failing, maybe not liking it, and then trying again. It’s not about loving every new experience; it’s about loving the growth that comes from pushing past your own boundaries.
Food is a simple metaphor, but it works, because everyone eats. The willingness to taste, to try, to explore, that’s where disruption starts.
You Can’t Disrupt What You Fear
Here’s something I’ve learned after years of watching others say they want to disrupt: if you only eat chicken and pizza, you won’t make it.
Why? Because disruption requires a deep comfort with discomfort.
If you can’t try new foods, new experiences, or step into something unfamiliar without fear, you’re not ready to change the world. It’s like saying you’ve never climbed before, but you’re heading out tomorrow to tackle Mount Everest. What are the odds that climber makes it to the top and back down again?
Change starts small. It’s in the little things, trying something new, maybe failing, maybe not liking it, and then trying again. It’s not about loving every new experience; it’s about loving the growth that comes from pushing past your own boundaries.
Food is a simple metaphor, but it works, because everyone eats. The willingness to taste, to try, to explore, that’s where disruption starts.
Over time, I’ve learned to balance change and stability, belonging and independence, love and restlessness. That balance didn’t come naturally, but it’s why I could do what so many said was impossible, disrupt aviation without a background in tech or flight.
Disruption, at its core, isn’t about chaos. It’s about courage. The kind that grows in the quiet places where imagination and resilience meet.
If you want to change the world, start by changing the way you move through it. Disruption begins with curiosity, and the courage to stay in motion.
With Gratitude,
~ Kerry
#BreneBrown #Disrupter #GrowthBeyondBoundaries
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