You Are the Author of Your Story

Last week I received two emails within minutes of each other. Both were from former clients—one to announce her new exciting role after a year of project work and looking for "the one", and the second to share the news of her resignation after a few months on the job.

As I looked at them stacked, one on top of the other in my inbox—I was struck by the tone that unified them: pride.

A hard-won leadership position.

A decision to tend to mental health over a paycheck with toxic strings attached.

Both women were choosing how they wanted to view these snapshots in their career narratives. And their compassion for themselves leapt off the screen.

Beyond making me one happy coach, this realization felt like a message. It was a reminder that what can appear to be a:

Failure

Longer than normal job search

Stupid decision

Can also be seen as:

A critical lesson

Time to be thoughtful to find the right fit

The best decision with the information you had at the time

Often times when we’re stuck, it’s because we’re tough on ourselves in the retelling of the story. It’s hard to get momentum and move past that traumatic moment when we’re berating ourselves about what didn’t go well.

Now, I’m not saying to avoid the lessons about what you could do differently next time, but you do need to extend compassion to yourself, just as my clients did. Believe you did the best you could do, and your best was OK.

Stepping into momentum and ideas for what’s next in your career and your life comes after accepting where you are right now and choosing what it means to you.

There are many authentic versions of the story. Why not write the one that fuels you?

A Little Bit of Improv Goes a Long Way

Over a month ago, another coach who I’ve admired from afar—Katie Goodman—reached out to me and asked if I’d like to join her upcoming improv workshop in Manhattan.

There were a couple of factors to consider.

It was on a Saturday, so I needed to think through spending an entire weekend-day away from the kids. This is always a tradeoff, but with the right positioning (once a marketer…) and a well-curated set of activities—a day away can be good for everyone involved.

Then there was the obvious staring me in the face.

IMPROV. A discipline I don’t exactly consider to be in my wheelhouse.

My approach to being a working mom and a business owner has traditionally been to plan my life and my world down to the minute detail, to create processes and roadmaps, to predict outcomes and scenarios and then build newer, better processes to address that wider scope of potential outcomes…and scenarios.

So, improv.

It made me want to run the other way. And that’s exactly why I said, “yes.”

Katie, a veteran comedian, speaker and coach, led us through a day of improv games that truly pushed me to the Antarctica of my NYC comfort zone.

In the safety of a group of kind, open fellow improv newbies—I found myself stuck several times. Blank mind, unfunny, desperate to plan my way out of a moment of silence.

It got so bad that at one point, I could not come up with ANY word in the English language that began with the letter K. Any. Word.

My inner critic, busy polishing off an epic monologue, opted instead for a clear and concise, “Wow, you really suck at this.” I even texted that to a friend at a break who said, “Strange, you’re usually so funny.” And for a moment I wondered if I lost my funny on the subway ride over.

After getting to know some of my fellow improv’ers at lunch and throughout the day, I did manage to loosen up slightly…even smile and laugh at clever choices.

Then, just as I was ready to announce myself done for the day, Katie asked us to do one more exercise—an improv musical. She gave us a topic and played a few songs on a keyboard. Then we were expected to…ahem…put on a musical? In my mind this definitely required the next level of improv skill, and since I didn’t even have level one down, I was pretty shocked when I raised my hand to volunteer.

I stood up with a few of my new peeps and we simply began our scene. The music started and something changed for me. I was clear and calm. I burst into song. The words flowed more freely than they had all day. Without notice, we were all belting out the catchy refrain of my made-up song in unison, “Let’s all break stuff together. Let’s all break stuff together.”

I felt alive. Energized. Adrenalized. I got it.

I was present and without a plan. I let go. I let it happen. And it happened—ideas, flow, connection, creativity, energy. Fun.

What I found in this moment was that sometimes you need to go to Antarctica to redouble your mojo. You must do something that makes you want to run the other way, something that challenges your wiring. Sometimes you’ve got to break from the rules and the plans and the roadmaps so you can simply…play. As a grownup, I too often forget this so I know I will need to practice. I’m grateful to have had this chance to try it out. Making up songs about breaking stuff is a really good start.

When You Feel Like You've Wasted Your Potential

When I was a child, I had a beautiful singing voice. It moved people. I could see it in their faces as I landed each note and articulated phrases beyond my years.

Grownups delivered praise that could make a kid drunk on possibility. And they imprinted their own dreams and desires on me in a way that made us all high on potential.

But our collective buzz did not last. As it turned out, my love for arias, jazz standards and even my folk favorites did not outweigh my disdain for the time commitment, discipline and practice it would take to improve. Halfway through my freshman year of college, I gave up all classes and academic connections to music in search of new answers.

This was not a popular decision with family and teachers. In the end they did support me, but for years after this moment, talk about my wasted potential crept into conversation. While I knew that was not my path, I didn’t have a clear sense of what my path would be—and so I internalized some of that fear.

What if that was my only gift and I squandered it?

What if it’s too late to get it back?

Years later, I’m confident that if I would have continued to pursue that dream, it would have been for someone else. It would have been for the recognition and not the love—which is a tough pill to swallow in a field where the hours are long, and the odds of success are low.

Beyond my personal journey, I’ve come to know that the idea of potential is an out-of-date construct. An old school bullshit that hinders the people who believe they have it as much as the people who believe they don’t.

Whether you think you’ve got it or not—know that the idea of wasted potential is simply one of thousands of thoughts you have a day.

It is not action.

It is not growth.

It is not momentum.

It’s stagnant, trapped in amber—fear—that there may not be more out there in this life for you. You get to choose whether to believe it or to move forward and do.

We Need To Rebrand Self-Promotion

When it comes to corporate leadership workshops, there’s one topic that consistently makes people writhe in their seats. They squirm. They scrunch their faces. Cross their arms. They get angry or they simply put up a wall.

When I say: Self-Promotion

People say:

Slimy

Fake

Salesy

Playing the game

A necessary evil

They hate it. And yes, I know hate is a strong word. But it’s not pretty.

When we brainstorm all the benefits that come from self-promotion, the room loosens up.

You control the language used to describe your work.

You let people know what type of projects are a good fit for you in the future.

You give your team visibility and build them up in the eyes of leadership.

You open the door to additional funding for your projects.

That’s not so bad, right? In fact, I would argue that when you love what you do and you know you’re making an impact, it doesn’t feel like selling, promoting or playing the game.

When I tell people about my work—in the back of my mind—I know the end goal is to get more women into positions of power. The larger my audience, the bigger the impact I can make. As we know, there’s a lot of work to be done on this front, so I talk about it—A LOT!

That’s why as a coach with a background in marketing, I would argue that what’s truly needed here is a rebrand. If self-promotion feels sleazy and like playing the game, call it whatever feels in synch with the outcomes you’ll get from it.

Whether it’s Owning Your Story, Choosing Your Narrative, or—if you want to go woo woo, which I enjoy—Shining Your Light. Whatever you go with, practice allowing those words to help you get beyond whatever is keeping you stuck and shrinking from sharing all that makes you proud. The world may need more of what you’ve got…but we will never know it unless you tell us.

Please, tell us!