We’re looking forward to introducing you to Sherry Heyl. Check out our conversation below.
Good morning Sherry, it’s such a great way to kick off the day – I think our readers will love hearing your stories, experiences and about how you think about life and work. Let’s jump right in? What are you being called to do now, that you may have been afraid of before?
What I’m being called to do now is step back into speaking and visible leadership in a way I haven’t in years. I had the opportunity to speak and lead conferences during the rise of Web 2.0 and social technologies, and I’ve always loved being on stage. But over time, I shifted into working behind the scenes, helping leaders and teams navigate change quietly. Now I feel called to step fully into shaping the future of work, not just commenting on it. The changes we’re facing are seismic, and organizations won’t succeed if they keep approaching change with outdated mindsets. People need guidance that is honest, practical, and human so they can move forward with confidence instead of fear. I feel a real urgency to help leaders get this right because the way we navigate this moment will shape how people work, live, and thrive for decades to come.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Sherry Heyl, the founder of Amplified Concepts, a consultancy focused on helping leaders and teams navigate change in a way that feels grounded, intentional, and human. My work sits at the intersection of emerging technology, organizational culture, and personal resilience. What makes my approach unique is that I do not just look at processes or tools. I look at the people who have to live through the change and the systems that shape their experience. I am passionate about helping organizations rethink how they work so their talent can thrive, especially as AI and automation reshape expectations. I am also publishing a new book in January titled Learn to Love the Roller Coaster: Stories About Change, Resilience, and the Future Taking Shape. It explores how the ups and downs we face both personally and professionally prepare us for the future we are building. Through Amplified Concepts and my writing, I am focused on giving people the clarity and confidence they need to move through change with purpose.
Okay, so here’s a deep one: Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?
Before the world told me who I had to be, I was observant, hopeful, and quietly rebellious. I was the kid who watched everything, studying people and situations because I had to. Growing up the way I did meant learning to read a room before I ever learned to name my own emotions. I noticed patterns in behavior long before I understood psychology. I imagined different possibilities for my life because the one in front of me felt too small.
I did not have the vocabulary for change management or resilience, but I was living those concepts every day. I learned how to navigate uncertainty, how to adapt quickly, and how to make sense of things that did not make sense on the surface. I was hopeful in a way that was almost defiant, believing life could be better, that people could rise, and that circumstances did not have to determine destiny.
And I was rebellious in small but meaningful ways. I questioned unspoken rules. I pushed against limitations. I held onto the belief that I could create something different for myself even when no one around me was modeling it.
That version of me never fully went away. In many ways I am returning to her now. The girl who trusted her instincts, who paid attention to what others missed, who believed that people are capable of so much more when they feel seen and supported. She is the foundation of everything I do today.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
I grew up in a world where nothing felt guaranteed. Money was tight, expectations were low, and fitting in never came naturally. I was the kid who felt like an outsider, the one who observed everything quietly while trying to make sense of chaos that other people seemed more equipped to handle. That kind of beginning forces you to develop instincts and strength long before you have language for any of it.
Suffering taught me to trust myself, to question the stories I inherited, and to take control of my path even when I was terrified. It taught me to stop waiting for someone to validate me. It taught me that resilience is not a personality trait. It is a practice you build in the moments when no one is watching.
In Learn to Love the Roller Coaster, I write about how the dips are where meaning is made. If life had only ever gone up for me, I would not have developed the depth, intuition, or clarity that guide my work now. Suffering shaped my backbone. It shaped my compassion. And it gave me the ability to help others move through change with confidence instead of fear.
Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. Is the public version of you the real you?
The public version of me is real, but it can give people the impression that I am social and extroverted, when the truth is I am the opposite. I enjoy being out with friends and family, and I love meaningful conversation, but most of my energy and clarity comes from solitude. I am happiest when I am learning, thinking, writing, or creating on my own. That is where I process the world.
People often tell me I come across confident, and that confidence is genuine. It comes from experience, from surviving a lot of tough chapters, and from knowing I can figure things out. But what people don’t always see is that I still battle anxiety. I still have moments where I have to remind myself to breathe, to ground, to separate what is real from the stories my mind wants to spin. Confidence and anxiety are not opposites. They coexist. I have simply learned how to lead with the part that moves me forward.
So yes, the public version of me is real. It is just not the full picture. It’s the version of me that shows up for others, the part that has integrated the lessons and can speak from a grounded place. The more personal parts, the quieter parts, and the anxious parts are still there. They are just the parts I tend to share in smaller moments, with people who have earned that level of closeness.
Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. How do you know when you’re out of your depth?
I know I am out of my depth when it’s a topic I’ve never been interested in and have never felt compelled to go deep on. There are areas where my curiosity just does not activate, and if I have not done the work to understand the landscape, I can feel it immediately. I am someone who excels when I am deeply engaged, so when that spark is missing, it is a clear signal that I need support or that someone else may be better suited for that part of the work.
Another sign is when I stop asking good questions. Curiosity is my default mode. It’s how I see patterns, understand people, and navigate change. When I am out of my depth, curiosity shuts down and gets replaced by overthinking.
What I have learned is that being out of my depth is not a flaw. It is a cue. It tells me when to pause, when to reach for collaboration, and when to hand the wheel to someone whose depth in that area complements my own. It keeps me grounded, honest, and aligned with the work I can do best.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.amplifiedconcepts.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/amplifiedconcepts/
- Linkedin: https://linkedin.com/company/amplifiedconcepts/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AmplifiedConcepts
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@amplifiedconcepts7470
