There’s something that shifts when I introduce myself as a “compliance officer“. People perk up a bit, nod politely, and often brace for a conversation about policies or rules. But what most don’t realize is that underneath the title is someone who is just like them.

I didn’t step into this work because I love rules. I stepped into it because I believe in fairness, in transparency, and in doing right by people. Early in my career, I thought about law school, but I kept coming back to a different kind of question—not how do I enforce policy, but how do I help people understand it, trust it, and believe in it? That’s what led me to study education instead. I wanted to explore how people learn, what motivates ethical behavior, and how change takes root—not by mandate but by meaning.

Because, to me, compliance isn’t about control. It’s about connection.

Most people want to do the right thing. But if they haven’t had a hand in shaping the policies, they may not understand them—or worse, they may not trust them. Having a hand in it doesn’t mean writing or approving the policies themselves. It means they’ve been invited into the conversation—their insights, lived experience, and concerns taken into account in how policies are built, explained, and implemented. That’s not a failure of discipline—it’s a missed opportunity for relationships. Real culture doesn’t live in binders or audits. It lives in the trust we build, the conversations we hold, and the consistency we model every day.

Some of the most meaningful moments in my work haven’t come from regulatory wins. They’ve come from being present—explaining a complex change with empathy, helping someone feel heard instead of corrected, or connecting policy back to purpose in a way that actually resonates.

Compliance officers are employees, too. We experience the same tensions and hopes everyone else does. We notice when things don’t align. We want to work in environments where integrity is lived, not just expected.

If you’ve ever felt like culture change is someone else’s job, I’ll say this plainly: it’s not. It belongs to all of us. And for those of us in compliance? It starts with showing up not just with the rulebook but with empathy. With curiosity. With the kind of leadership that doesn’t just ask, “Are you following?”— but stays present to listen, to adapt, and to build trust where it matters most.

In every conversation I’ve had, every room I’ve entered, I’ve tried to do one thing: deposit love. Sometimes, love looks like transparency. Sometimes, it’s education. Sometimes, it’s the courage to say, “There’s a better way.” These deposits don’t always come with fanfare, but over time, they add up. They build trust. They build culture. And they build workplaces that people can believe in.

So, let’s reimagine compliance—not as a mechanism for control, but as a channel for connection. We’re not here to keep people in line. We’re here to walk alongside them. To help them see that integrity isn’t just a requirement—it’s a shared responsibility we carry together.

Let’s keep leading with love.

Where integrity leads, progress follows

Signed with purpose,

Desiree