Why top performers break down before they break through
Jon Giganti spent 25 years in sales leadership looking like he had it together. On paper, he did. In reality, he was having panic attacks before presentations, nearly lost his marriage, and had moments where he thought about ending his life. "I was living a lie," he says. "I was a mess." What changed wasn't a new tactic or a better morning routine. It was telling the truth.
This conversation is about what happens when high performers stop performing and start being honest, and why that shift is the actual unlock for elite execution, real trust, and a career that means something.
Emotional vulnerability in high-performing teams
Jon ran a research project interviewing his top 30 performers to identify their success habits. What he found stopped him cold. "Our top performers, on paper they were doing great. Many of them were struggling immensely, not sleeping well, overly stressed out, not good relationships at home." The hustle culture highlight reel was hiding a quiet crisis.
When he started opening up in rooms, something unexpected happened. At a workshop in Phoenix, one leader shared that he'd been silently drowning at his previous company. The CEO then disclosed a miscarriage she'd never told anyone about. The CIO admitted he'd had a heart attack because he had no release valve. "The trust that was built in those moments, you could feel it. It was palpable." And the business results, Jon argues, follow that trust. Not the other way around.
The hidden cost of never letting them see you sweat
Jon's father came to the US from Palermo, Sicily at six years old. The family lived in an unfinished attic. His grandfather ran an elevator. His dad ground through seven-day weeks to build something in America. The model was clear: you don't show weakness. You just keep going.
When Jon's dad had a nervous breakdown and came home from the hospital, the family swept it under the rug. When Jon's parents divorced during his sophomore year of college, he told himself he didn't deserve to grieve because they were the ones going through it. That pattern of suppression followed him into his career, his marriage, and eventually into a spiral of depression, anxiety, and panic attacks. "I had moments thinking about suicide," he says plainly. "I almost lost my marriage."
The turning point came when a mutual connection introduced him to Carrie Oberbrunner, a coach and author who spoke openly about his own self-injury and suicidal past. "Here was a guy being very open and authentic and vulnerable, and he showed me the light." Jon had never seen that modeled before. It changed everything.
From success to significance: leaving a 25-year career
Jon left his corporate sales career at the end of November after 25 years. He has three kids, a wife who stays home, and no guaranteed income. Most people in his network thought he was crazy. He says he would have had regrets if he hadn't done it.
The decision wasn't impulsive. It was built on years of speaking to sports teams, running workshops, writing his book, and watching what happened every time he told the truth in a room. "Every room I've been in in the last 10 to 12 years where I share, it unlocks people." After a keynote in Nashville in front of 250 people, a man waited for him outside the green room, hugged him, and shared his story. Jon knew then that this was the work he was built for.
He now runs Intentional Growth Partners, coaching sales executives and leaders through what he calls the With Intention framework. His vision, written as a newspaper article dated 2030, includes a quote from a close friend who coaches professional soccer: "We couldn't have done it without Jon's team." He sent his friend the article. "You got to think big. You got to put it out there."
How telling the truth builds trust faster than any tactic
Jon's leadership philosophy runs counter to the umbrella model, where the leader absorbs all the rain and the team stays dry. He believes in what Ben Laws calls Strength In Truth: being a realist with your team, naming the headwinds, and giving people a container to talk about what's actually going on.
"I built so much trust with my sales team by not BSing them," Jon says. Leaders who shelter their teams from reality often think they're protecting them. What they're actually doing is signaling that the truth isn't safe here. And when the truth isn't safe, neither is the trust.
The same principle applies to the cohort Jon just finished running. He went in expecting the curriculum to do the work. Every participant said the most impactful thing was the connection with each other. "The magic was in showing up, providing the safe space, opening up the room, letting the room dictate what was going to happen." Community, not content, was the catalyst.
