’ve always been a lot. Loud laugh, big personality, fast brain, faster mouth. I show up with energy, with ideas, with a smile. I walk in, ready to make everyone feel good, to lift the room, to connect. I’ve spent most of my life being the person who wants to make everyone smile. I need people to like me. And if they don’t, I try harder.
That worked really well when my world was full of casual social circles and friend groups. You could charm someone with your vibe and win them over with a joke. But when your world shifts, when most of your time is spent in professional circles, in boardrooms, on panels, and at industry events, well, that same approach doesn’t always land the same.
One of my accounting friends said something recently that stopped me in my tracks. She said, “I finally figured you out. You’re like a puppy. You come running up to people, tail wagging, full of energy and joy. Most people are like, ‘I love puppies!’ But some stop you and say, ‘No thanks, I’m a cat person.’”
And honestly? She nailed it. I’m not even mad. It was the most accurate description of how I show up in this world and how people respond to it. Some love it. Some don’t. And for the first time, I’m okay with that.
But it wasn’t always easy. The hardest part about being me in professional settings is that it takes people a while to see past the energy and into the substance. Because I’m not quiet. I’m not corporate. I don’t wear beige or speak in monotone. I don’t fit the mold of what our industry is used to seeing on main stages or advisory boards. And that means I’ve had to prove myself ten times over.
I’ve built and sold firms. I’ve led teams, scaled businesses, and coached others to do the same. I teach. I build systems. I know my stuff. But still, it’s taken longer to be seen as a valuable educator in certain rooms, not because of what I know, but because of how I show up.
And for a while, I questioned if I should tone it down. If I should wear the blazer. If I should sit still and speak softer. If I should trade authenticity for acceptance. But the answer is no. I’m not going to bow down and sell out just to fit in.
I’m going to keep showing up as me. Because the people who need my energy? They find me. The ones who want to learn from someone who makes them feel seen, motivated, fired up, and ready to actually do the thing? I’m here for them.
And for the ones who prefer calm, quiet, and conservative? That’s okay too. They already have representation.
I’m not for everyone. But no one is. And trying to be is the fastest way to fail. I once heard, “I can’t give you the formula for success, but I can give you the formula for failure: try to please everyone.” That hit me hard, because I’ve spent years doing just that.
But not anymore.
I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to keep being the puppy. The tail-wagging, overexcited, sometimes-too-much, but always-well-intentioned puppy. And to the cat people? Don’t worry. I promise, I won’t jump into your kitty litter
