Whether it’s because I saw the movie 9 to 5 too many times in my youth, because I have a flair for the dramatic or even because of an early hunger for the freedom of entrepreneurship—I was prone to quitting fantasies in my early career. Just like the joys of starting a new relationship in which your partner seems infallible and the possibilities for a life together seem endless, the fresh start of a potential new job was intoxicating to me. A job where all bosses would be inspiring leaders, all colleagues would put out a helping hand to give you a career boost and all projects were apolitical—keeping the end-user in mind. These visions gave me some time to think about what a good resignation looks like and also conjure up your standard burning bridges scenarios. Having taken both approaches—there’s one I would call a "career lengthening" move, while the other simply brings Dolly, Jane and Lily to mind in some of the more cringe-worthy scenes. 

When my clients are preparing for their big resignation moment, a moment that has run through their minds on a loop (often for months), we focus on hitting these points so they can live this experience in a way that feels true to them. 

1. Address emotions ahead of time
Your meeting to announce your resignation with your direct boss is not the moment to begin processing ongoing grievances from your tenure at the company. Work with a friend, partner or professional to acknowledge your feelings of frustration, anger or disappointment so that you can walk into the meeting composed and confident. 

2. Share only what feels comfortable to you
String together a narrative that feels positive and forward thinking so you can walk out the door on a high. Even if there have been tough moments in your role that have pushed you closer to your decision, it’s your choice whether you share them or not. Know that you are not hiding or shrinking if you choose to focus only on what you’re moving toward instead of what you’re leaving behind. You can set a boundary in your choice of narrative and there is always an opportunity to share more at a later date if you so choose. 

3. Keep feedback constructive
If you feel compelled to share feedback on a colleague, manager or trend at the company, take time to craft your talking points so that they are actionable and helpful to moving the culture or productivity of the company in a positive direction. Provide your thoughts through a lens of being in service to the company and the people you care about who are still there. Complaining and dropping problems into the laps of already overworked employees in the name of being right is not helpful to anyone and will not make the impact you hoped to make. If your feedback involves incidents of harassment, review these steps in Lolly Daskal’s piece, 10 Tips For Dealing With Workplace Harassment and ideally consult an attorney prior to giving feedback. 

4. Express gratitude where it feels authentic
Gratitude and appreciation go a long way in keeping career bridges intact. As you think through your narrative, identify clear and authentic ways you can acknowledge the person on the other end—or the company—for the opportunity, for the visibility or for the chance to learn. Whatever it is, it should feel real for both of you. 

5. Be professional about notice and transition
Treat your transition with the respect you showed your role. Give at least two weeks, document your work and processes, meet with colleagues to hand off your work and help hire and/or train your replacement if it fits into your notice window. Do whatever may be meaningful to the people you are leaving behind so that they can feel the care you put into this change. All of that said, if the two week professional standard is all you can do to ensure you have a short break between roles, you can set a boundary there so you have some time to ready yourself for your new opportunity. 

6. Leave the door wide open
I am proud to say that my biggest supporters in my business are former colleagues and direct managers who were on the receiving end of my resignation conversations. If there are people who you are leaving behind with whom you would love to work or collaborate again—by all means—let them know. Connect on LinkedIn, suggest you meet for coffee when you get settled, send them an article here and there to let them know they’re on your mind. Nurture those relationships at a distance, but with the same care and honesty you did when you were on the front lines together, spending more hours side by side than you did with your spouse or closest friends! 

When your narrative is on point and you’re ready for your meeting, practice walking through it with a friend, colleague, coach or therapist. Note areas that may bring up emotion or where you take a detour into negative land. Hone those bits so you feel calm and clear in your delivery. Do something the morning of your meeting that will boost your energy and confidence like—exercising, listening to a power song ("Eye of the Tiger" anyone?) or saying a mantra like, "Onward!" or "Peace out people." or whatever works for you. Know that you’ve made your decision—which was the hard part—and now you get to live out your fantasy that’s been rolling around your mind for months, except this time it’s for real. In front of you stands the fresh start you’ve earned. 

We all make mistakes. We are imperfect. We are human. For all these reasons, I often work with clients on minimizing their apologizing. We are a culture where (especially as women) we tend to over-apologize. 

I’m sorry I’m not available during the times you are free. 

I’m sorry I didn’t get out of your way fast enough while passing you in the hall. 

I’m sorry I interrupted you when in fact that was the only way I was going to get a word into the discussion. 

In this sea of sorries, each one becomes meaningless. Then, when we make our true mistakes, we are left without words, without trust and without any way to make a difference in even our most important relationships. 

In our work when we make mistakes, one way to repair the relationship is to write an authentic, vulnerable email (not text!) that you then follow up a few days later with a call or in-person conversation. I like using email because it conveys the gravity of what you’re trying to communicate while text is more of a casual medium. It also gives the person on the other end some time to process what you’re saying so they are less reactive in their response. 

Here are a few ways you can make your apology more meaningful in your work or life:

1. Kick your habit of pointless apologies
You’re giving away your power each time you make a pointless apology, so now’s your time to become aware of when you do it and make some changes. You’re also setting up distrust for when you make a heart-felt apology, so stepping into your power to work on this habit will provide you with the foundation and tools when you make the inevitable bigger mistakes. 

2. Don’t make excuses or try to be right
If you use this email as a way to line up your points about why you were justified in acting as you did—you’ve completely missed the point and will dig yourself further into a hole. If you want to repair this trust and this relationship, now is your moment to take 100% responsibility for your actions. By sharing where you are clear you made a mistake and that in the future you’re going to do X, Y and Z differently—you’ve taken the first step toward a possibility of healing rather than continuing to protect yourself. 

3. Be you
Be honest, be vulnerable and write how you normally would write or speak. There’s no need to be formal or robotic because you’re conveying something serious. In fact, quite the opposite. A sprinkling of self-deprecating humor never hurt an apology note, so if that’s your typical approach—go with it. 

4. Be brief
Dissertations in this context will not be read or appreciated. No roman numerals, no footnotes—simple, heart-felt words are your go-to approach here. If your note is running long, save as draft, come back later and edit like it matters…because it does. 

5. Be patient and compassionate about a response
Once you send your note, avoid the temptation to refresh your email every ten seconds. If you notice yourself getting angry or frustrated about a lack of response (after an hour), acknowledge those feelings are more about you than about that person. You’re angry with yourself and that’s OK. You can do better and you will do better, but give the gift of some space while he or she figures out next steps. Feelings take time to resolve and people vary in how quickly they can move toward forgiveness. Your note is not a quick fix. It’s the first step in a longer process of repairing trust. 

6. Follow up with actions in sync with your words
In your note, mention that you will follow up with a call or in-person meeting in a few days and make sure you do just that. The next step toward making things right again is being in integrity—doing what you say you will do. The relationship may take time to heal, but when you’re clear about its importance to you and act accordingly—you’re on the path toward forgiveness. 

Of course honing your apology skills is never license to knowingly disrespect your work or your relationships. If you’re acting in accordance with your values and being the kind of leader you want to be in your life—one would hope this is a skill that would need to rarely be deployed. That said, as with so many of the uncomfortable aspects of living in a world AS imperfect humans WITH imperfect humans—having more tools and a language to help us take responsibility for who we are can move us further down the road towards acceptance. 
 

This summer has been a wonderful combination of downtime (that I’m now ready to enjoy!), experimenting with new opportunities, getting clear on what’s working and what’s not in my business and re-envisioning my plan for moving forward. I’ve covered my whiteboard in my still teenage bubbly scribble, I’ve reconnected with colleagues and mentors to discuss my progression and I hired my own coach to help me optimize this business that I already love. 

When I sat down to write a future-focused vision for my first coaching session, I was swept up by the opportunity to think about the big picture instead of the tactical moves to getting there. I’ve always been more of a big-picture thinker, but coming out of the corporate hierarchy to run my own business has forced me to get granular and address the small steps to building your own dream. 

A few hours after immersing myself in this exercise, relishing the clarity and ease within the life I put on paper, I realized there are many things I’m currently doing in my life and in my career that are not even mentioned in that document. I thought about a revision, but stopped myself. Do I want to include them? I have the choice. How do I want this to look and how do I want to feel in my life and in my work?

As a next step, I decided to create an energy map of all of the things I am currently doing in the business. I listed out all of my business activities in four categories:

1. Igniting
All of the things I do that light me up. The things that make me bounce out of bed in the morning. The things I can’t wait to tell my daughters about. The moments I feel most alive. 
2. Not Sure
I’ve been experimenting with these things and I enjoy them, but I’m not yet getting power and magic from them (and yes, I am seeking power and magic). I may not be skilled enough in the work yet or I may have some fear around these projects and activities that I haven’t yet addressed. I don’t have enough data to decide to do anything but stay the course with them right now. They’re not a hell yeah, but they’re also not a no. 
3. Curious About
I’m hungry to learn more about these things. I may be far along in my journey with them or I may be just beginning. I don’t yet know how they will evolve into part of my work, but I am committed to staying on the path until I know. 
4. Draining
This is not a judgment on the work, more of a statement that these activities are the wrong fit with my specific set of strengths. I’m not the person to be doing this work and by moving away from it, I’m opening up space for more that’s on my (long!) Igniting list. 

Looking at my list, there was some clear low hanging fruit to address that could help me begin heading down the right path. And while the answer is not as simple as release everything on the draining list, it could be looking into what are my reasons for holding onto things on the draining list? Or where have I done that at other times in my career so I can get to the root of the problem and end a behavior pattern that’s not serving me. One of the most moving parts of this exercise was looking at that igniting list and asking myself, “What if I built my career with only those things?” I’m close enough to it right now that it’s quite easy to imagine, but the vision is peaceful and full and I’m grateful to even see these possibilities for my life. 

Recently, I listened to an interview with Spike Lee where he talked about his childhood and college experience. After discussing his early love of poetry, theater and music, Lee asked his interviewer, Alec Baldwin, "Do you know who are the biggest killers of dreams?" Long pause. "Parents." Ouch—that one hurts! While my kids are a long way from college-age, consider that message officially received. 

I also see many parents encouraging their kids to dive into known, stable careers in order to protect them from struggle and lifelong hardships. It’s clear it comes from a place of love, through a lens of their own challenges making ends meet. By contrast, that was not Spike Lee’s experience. He was supported by his parents with acknowledgement, respect and prompting to go farther in his love of the arts—even when his parents didn’t know if it would offer him stability or a solid foundation for his future. This freedom planted the belief that it was possible to make something of his unique combination of creativity, passion and grit. 

Lee’s powerful advice strikes me as I watch my friends, colleagues and clients send their kids off to college this August. Here are 3 ideas to help you continue on the path of encouragement as you move one foot off the cliff: 

1. Their careers haven’t been invented yet
A former colleague and friend told me her son’s college addressed all of the parents with this statement on day one of parent’s weekend. It both blew me away and was absolutely true for my career. A year out of school, I fell into a new career as a "Web Producer." Being a Psychology major, I had no idea such a thing existed…because it didn’t. At the beginning of that career, I used to talk about my love for inventing my job every day. It was thrilling. If I had known it was impossible to predict the career path I would choose in school, I know for certain I would have been less stressed about choosing that exact right path and perfect major that would set me up for success. Instead, I switched my major five times and drew more from my elective classes (chosen for pure joy) in my career than from any of my multiple majors. 

2. Deeper self knowledge and awareness will give them an edge
In this climate of over-achievement where many kids in schools will get top grades, working hard is of course important, but high marks are not the end all, be all. A student’s ability to experiment and uncover passions and channel a curiosity to figure out what makes him or her different instead of the same will be key to breaking through the pack. By reflecting on values, strengths and passions early and often, students can learn a skill I emphasize in my work with mid-career professionals—authentic self-promotion. They will also have greater clarity in what opportunities to pursue—and even create! 

3. Relationships are paramount
It goes without saying, the knowledge gained on a variety of topics (dare I say, any) is an important component of college. That said—I will go out on a limb here with an opinion that—a focus on learning how to build professional relationships and the network of relationships built in school is as (if not more) important than the curriculum. The more your almost-adults know how to nurture relationships with fellow students, alumnae, professors, Career Center faculty—the more ideas he or she will be exposed to about possible career options and the wider the networking community to call on when he or she is ready to get out there. As someone with zero family career connections or capital, I learned early that to jumpstart my career, I needed to build relationships myself—and that practice helped me get up and running with a wide network that is still an area of my career bringing me the most support and pride. 

As a coach, I have the benefit of seeing the aggregate experiences of my clients’ college and career paths. I see clients thriving who went to city and state schools and schools with little to no name recognition. I see those who went to ivies and are struggling to get their careers off the ground (until we get them digging deep!). And then there are those whose college failures bare no resemblance to their professional success (so don’t worry there’s still hope if your student is not yet where you thought he/she would be). When you send them off to do their best, to learn about the world and themselves, remember that often it’s the life skills, the practice of being an independent, empathetic, resilient, flawed human that will prepare them the most for the paths that are theirs to create. 

Last month I had a career highlight moment when I trained new candidates (mostly women!) running for public office on executive presence and personal leadership at an event in Pennsylvania. My husband and I decided to make a Philly family weekend out of it. While I worried how the unpredictability of 7 and 10 year olds would throw me off my game, my gut told me it was the right thing to do. 

So, after a fun Saturday at the Franklin Institute, as well as exploring some of Philly’s cute neighborhoods and kid-friendly eats, we set off to the Sunday event where I would be one of several speakers. During the car ride that morning, the kids were belting out Hamilton lyrics as they often do on longer rides and I could feel my heart pound double time as it does before I take the stage. I went quiet—and because I’m the mom who usually sings along (or stumbles along if we’re referring to Hamilton), my silence did not go unnoticed. The girls began firing questions at me and poking and prodding—anything to figure out where I was at that moment. 

I felt my resistance assume fighting stance.

My urge to hide my imperfection, my vulnerability and my fear was palpable. 

I wanted to be their cool, unshakeable, runs her own business, changing the world mom. Instead, I was afraid to stand in someone’s living room to share material I live and breathe every day with total strangers. 

"I’m ner-cited." I said quoting Jane, my ten-year old’s sentiments before her 4th grade chorus recital earlier this year. At the time I was blown away that at 10, she already knew nervous and excited feel exactly the same. It took me 40+ years to get there and I’m still reminding myself daily. With my admission came instant relief—for all of us. "Oh, ok Mom." Then without missing a beat, "I am not throwing away my shot!" 

In order to be their runs her own business, making the world a better place for them mom—I must show them that I’m often afraid to be that person—but I do it anyway. I go out there and I do it imperfectly because I’m a flawed human. Watching my humanity gives them the opportunity to be vulnerable and imperfect as they do the things in life that they simultaneously crave and fear. Though my aspiration is often to show them that model of perfection so they’re proud of me and our family—I know when I go beyond my ego and I let them catch me being who I truly am, I’m showing them it’s possible to be all of who they are. 

Later in that inspiring day, I stood in front of the room to connect with and support my audience. My 7-year-old, Roxanne, sat on a bar stool, legs dangling, quietly staring at me command a room of rapt learners. And Jane ran across the "stage" a couple of times mid-talk in only a bathing suit to grab sunscreen from her dad. Not ideal—but I worked it into a laugh or two. It was real. For the candidates, I was the coach who is also a mom that wanted her daughters to see what it looks like when women run for office. For my daughters, it was a peak into what mommy does all day and what’s possible when you’re doing something you love. And for me, the opportunity to feel the full support of the people I love while being a part of something core to my mission—even in those messy moments, especially in those messy moments—was true freedom. 
 

I have big goals. I want to help us get to gender parity in both the private and public sectors. I want to help working moms give up on perfectionism so they can be who they truly are and live meaningful lives. I want to run a successful business where I’m constantly learning and growing AND also making the money to create the kind of life I want to live. I want my kids to feel loved, supported and seen for who they are, while learning to work hard, take risks and have empathy for their fellow imperfect humans. 

Sometimes (actually most of the time) looking at that list is overwhelming—and I do this motivating stuff for a living. This is often the way my clients feel as well. They are hungry for a career change, a promotion, to start a new business—or some other huge transition, that all seem out there in the unreachable distance. 

In addition to breaking down the path to a big goal into small actions, we do something that I find to be one of the biggest motivators and predictors of success. 

We celebrate each and every small win. 

Celebrating the small wins:

1. Cultivates presence and gratitude. We must stand exactly where we are right now and know that we are exactly where we need to be instead of wishing ourselves into some future destination. 
2. Propels our momentum. We gain confidence in what we can accomplish and it jumpstarts our next actions. 
3. Chips away at our fear. Fear can come on with a vengeance when we’re doing something we haven’t done before. When moving through fear becomes part of our muscle memory with small wins, we become skilled at recognizing it and sidelining it in the moment. 

A few ways I recommend clients celebrate their small wins are:

1. Recruit an accountability buddy or group for you to report wins (with as many emojis as you like) on a regular basis. I have a group text with my Mastermind Group and we’re quite a supportive crew! 
2. Keep a brag list! Whether it’s in a designated section of your notebook, a note on your phone, or in Evernote, keep a running list of all of the small wins that spark pride. Remember, a small thing can make a big impact! 
3. Talk about your wins with your close-in circle and beyond. If you’re one of those people who cringe at the idea of self-promotion, get some practice with it by talking about your wins with people who support you. Notice the reactions you get and experiment with going beyond your comfortable circle. Self-promotion is a skill that’s worth nurturing if you want to progress in your career. 

Once you’re in the habit of celebrating and your wins are well documented, they can be used as the structure for company status meetings or performance reviews, or simply for your own confidence and validation. And if you want to blow your mind—take a look at a few of what you’re calling small wins and compare where you are now on progress to where you were a year ago. That’s one way to explode a small win into fanfare that tops your list! 

Many of my clients are in non-traditional careers. They’ve given up the 9-5 (or 9-8 as the case may be) for consulting or portfolio careers where they leverage their greatest strengths to deliver a menu of services to their ideal clients. They make their own hours. They define their suite of services. They set their rates. And yet what I often hear from them are the following questions:

Am I really an expert? 

Is this a business? 

Coming from a personal leadership perspective, my answer is often, "You can be and it can be, if that’s what you want. It’s your choice." 

One way I’ve wrestled with these questions in my own business is by creating my blog. Unlike more typical blogs of the Mommy, Tech or Travel variety, I’m not using ads, sponsorships, or connections with influencers (though if Oprah felt inclined to pick up one of my recent posts about her, A Thank You To My First Mentor, that would be lovely. There’s still time, Oprah!). The blog started as a way to compliment all the work I was doing—and truly as a marketing tool, but has grown to be so much more for both the business and for me personally. 

Here are 5 ways my blog contributes to both my personal and professional bottom line:

1. Make a bigger impact
My number one priority with the blog has always been and will always be—deliver value. Give people the tools and inspiration to think in a new way, pull themselves out of tough situations, and make choices in their lives. Not everyone has the time or money to experience 1:1 coaching and that’s why I love having the opportunity to give so much away for free. And when I hear from strangers that an article touched them or that they were able to build confidence to give up on stories that have been holding them back—I’m lit up. 

2. Creative flow time
When I first started writing, I used to hold two 3-hour time blocks per week for my writing time. With my busier practice and number of corporate workshops in the mix, I’ve brought that down to one time per week. And something remarkable happened. I long for that time throughout the week. I feel both staunchly protective of it and grateful for every moment I’m living it. It’s my time to put my pieces back together—to go inward, to be quiet, and to recharge. I need it to make all the other parts of my life make sense—so in essence, it’s the glue that keeps both the business and me intact.

3. Visibility for the business
The not so age-old tenants I learned as a digital marketer before becoming a coach have held true. With a consistent weekly cadence of content and a brand personality all my own, new clients and influencers in the field have started to pay attention to what I have to say. I’m in the conversation—even if it sometimes (to me) appears to be on the fringes. When a new potential client comes to me, they’ve often read a blog post or two, and our starting point is a level of familiarity I would have never expected. I explain very little about what I do. I’ve already explained it for the past 80 weeks in a row, so we’re aligned on what I can offer from moment one. 

4. New content for my coaching and programs
My articles have become my coaching curriculum! As most coaches know, when you start out, you’re hungry for a framework, worksheets and content to help move your clients along. I felt what was out there and available did not speak to my clients or me. I dance the line between snark and hope. I practice rebellious optimism. So, slow and steady I continue to build this need into my content plans. My wheels are always turning on how I can continue to best serve my clients with new exercises and thought starters that speak to their specific needs. And a content schedule is born. 

5. The first draft of the book
I was that 22-year-old who in an interview for a Publicity Assistant role answered the question, "How are your writing skills?" with "I’ve got a book in me!" For years I cringed thinking about that moment, but now it cracks me up. I did, and I do! The blog has brought me closer to that book than I ever thought I would be. In the next couple of years, I will surely mine the blog for the first pieces of the book that I will construct as a labor of love, most likely while crying in a coffee shop which is what it looks like when I’m writing my most popular personal posts. 

While it’s not perfect or bringing down the Squarespace servers with it’s over the top traffic numbers—my blog (which is also my newsletter, LinkedIn and Medium presence) is delivering on my business goals and helping me parse through my life goals. If you’re a consultant looking to expand, or an entrepreneur looking to launch a new product or business—it could be just the thing to help you build your audience and explore what they need and want, while defining your business and building your brand as an expert in your field. Remember, you define what success looks like for you. Bigger isn’t always better. Sometimes starting small and building slowly can be exactly what you need to develop your voice, find YOUR people and have fun in the process. As always, thanks for being my people. Your readership and ongoing support means the world to me. 
 

Spring was busy. There were new career opportunities like doubling down on corporate workshops, exciting partnerships, and coaching to support causes that are important to me. Then there was a babysitter turnover that forced us to bring on our organizational A games. When your kid asks, "Who’s picking us up from school today?" and your response is to check the whiteboard, you know you’re in one day at a time working parent mode, using it as an opportunity to foster your child’s independence. Or when you’re standing in the park at your 7-year-olds birthday party holding a goodie bag for one of her close friends and you realize this kid never received an invite, you know you’re nailing this "ditch perfectionism" approach you talk about with your clients. 

In the busyness and the excitement and revolving door of babysitters, I let a few important days roll right by without much acknowledgement. The one-year mark of the passing of my Aunt Marilyn who raised me, the 32nd anniversary of my parents’ accident, and two days later, the two-year anniversary of my friend Dave’s passing from ALS. It’s become a three-week container that is either the emotional perfect storm or not. I never know which it’s going to be. And I do my best not to judge myself for either outcome. 

As things were beginning to slow down at the end of June, I found myself with a rare child-free Saturday (made possible by the most engaged and adoring grandparents my kids—and I—could ask for!). I did not work, clean, or organize the house, which were all things I could have done. I knew I needed time for me. Time to slow down. Time to connect with some of the losses I barely tended to in the past months. Time to address some of the thoughts and feelings that were bumping up against the walls of busyness I was putting up out of what seemed like necessity at the time. 

I exercised, had lunch with a close friend, and met up with a group of working moms who’ve also lost their mothers. They’ve been on my radar for a while, but I was always—you guessed it—too busy to connect with them. But on that day, wow, I found my people. To be able to talk about loss and grief as freely as you would about the kind of cereal your kid eats without having to worry if you’re freaking the fuck out of the person on the other end of the conversation was true freedom. It felt like I was finally able to speak my mother tongue after years of unsuccessful attempts. 

While I’m not in a crisis in dealing with all of my losses, it was critical to remind myself that tending to this part of me—my past and how it will impact my future is part of my self-care—as much or more than exercise, clean eating, or getting enough sleep. I must talk about this and hear others’ stories to connect on this deep hurt that for years made me feel like the weird one. Now as we say in my house, I know I’m "weird in a good way" and that I don’t need to go there with everyone. But when I can flow between healing and revealing my deepest broken-ness, laughing and crying with total strangers—shining optimism and still dropping my dark humor bombs that could only have been born of loss—I feel the most me.