By Erin Krueger

Integrity isn’t just a word I use to describe how I run my business, it’s who I am. It always has been.

I learned that lesson the hard way at eighteen.

Right after high school, a generous couple, Tom and Sherri, gifted me a week at their beach house. It was a chance to relax and celebrate with a few close friends. But on the last night, things took a turn I’ll never forget.

I had stepped out briefly to visit another group of friends nearby. When I returned, the road was jammed with cars. Music was blaring. My stomach dropped.

No way. That can’t be my house.

But it was. The driveway was packed, and strangers were everywhere. I walked inside in complete shock. All I remember is slamming the wall to shut the music off and yelling, “Everyone out of this house, now!”

More than fifty people filed past me. My friends—those I’d trusted—stood there stunned.

“You, too,” I told them.

“What do you mean? It’s ten o’clock at night, Erin. What are we supposed to do?”

“Get your bags and get out.”

The silence afterward was deafening. I felt completely alone and completely heartbroken. So I called the one person I knew would understand.

“I just kicked out my friends, Mom,” I told her. “The house is a mess.”

She paused, then simply said, “You became an adult tonight. Your dad and I will be there in two hours.”

And they were. They showed up and helped me clean the house from top to bottom, no questions asked.

Even at eighteen, I knew what had happened wasn’t right. I knew what I stood for and I stood by it.

That moment became a defining one for me, not just personally, but professionally. Because when you make a choice to uphold your values, especially when it’s hard, it sticks.

To this day, that same sense of integrity guides how I lead my team, work with clients, and run my business. It’s why I don’t represent both sides in a real estate deal, even when it’s legal and common. If a buyer chooses to go unrepresented, I’m honest with them. I explain that I’m obligated to act in the seller’s best interest, and I never cross that line.

It’s not always easy to tell a seller that their house isn’t worth as much as they think it is. Or to have the tough conversations that others shy away from. But I believe those are the moments that define you.

Culture is built in the details. It’s the decision to say “I don’t know” instead of making something up. It’s the courage to have hard conversations with honesty. In the consistency of showing up with the same character, no matter who’s watching.

And over time, people remember that. They respect it. 

That night at the beach house may have felt like the end of something, but it was really the beginning. It was the first time I chose integrity over acceptance. And it shaped everything I’ve built since then.

If I want to be known for anything, let it be this:
A culture above reproach. Always.

For more stories like this, grab my book Capture the Culture!