I used to think that I had two competing interests. To fit in, or to stand out.

And while I had the urge to create, to write, to perform, to lead, I had another, often stronger voice in me saying, “Stay small, stay quiet, stay normal, stay safe.”

It was my mother’s voice. And while she loved me and wanted the best for me, she also kept me from being me.

Because calling attention to yourself was not done. It was not safe.

I quickly came to realize that I was not “normal.” Whatever that happened to mean, it was not me. I don’t know many people who wanted to major in history and math and psychology. But I liked it all.

I talked with a client the other day who had been through something similar. And he had an insight that helped me, too.

What if it’s not about standing out, but simply about being yourself?

If you are small and quiet and “normal,” there’s nothing wrong with that. And no reason to pretend otherwise.

But if you aren’t, don’t pretend to be. You were made that way for a reason. Don’t stand out. Be yourself, in all your glory.

We need the real you, not the one you think is safe to show us. If you don’t feel safe to show it, you may be working with the wrong people.

Someone one needs you exactly as you are.

Find them.

The last several weeks I’ve been doing a research project, talking to senior execs about what their next role might look like, how they got roles in the past, and what is getting in the way right now.

I’ve had scores of interactions.

It’s quickly become clear that only one characteristic separates those who have moved up quickly from those who continue to stagnate.

That characteristic has nothing to do with their role or their technical expertise.

Instead, it’s their view of the world.

Struggling job seekers see the world as outside of them and are quick to create excuses. They wait for the right time, for the right recruiter to call, for the right role to show up. (And then they complain about the job they get.)

Successful job seekers see that they can create their next role.

An SVP I talked to said it best.

“I am constantly working on my own psychology, because it determines everything.”

You can actively create your experience. Or you can react to whatever shows up.

You can focus on what you really want. Or you can focus only what you think you can have (or deserve).

Which one will you decide?

I started coaching because I thought I could help people be better leaders.

And I do help. But in a very different way than I thought.

At first, I would instruct. I would teach. I would give clients frameworks and content and (dare I say) “wisdom.”

My clients seemed to appreciate what I was offering.

Then a curious thing started happening. I’d say something, and then a client would excitedly share something with me.

That had nothing to do with what I had been talking about!

My clients were having insights, but they were having insights IN SPITE of what I was saying.

I was getting in the way!

I started experimenting with saying less. With seeing how little I could talk.

And they started having MORE insights!

Sure, I might ask an occasional question, to clarify their experience. But most of the time I was silent.

There is something about simply creating a space for insight that is better than any thinking I can offer.

While that’s humbling, it’s also magic. Because everyone already knows what to do. They just need someone to pull it out of them. To help with the fear that shows up when they see they really can be who they want to be.

Would you like to experience that? DM me. Let’s have some fun.

My client had come to me to help her manage a difficult boss. There had been a lot of changes in a business that she had helped start and lead, including the death of the founder.

From a business perspective, things were good. They were scaling, and my client was doing very well financially. But it was exhausting, and no longer inspiring her.

Her goal was, in her words, “To find a way to make it ten more years so I can retire and do what I want.”

She wanted passion. She wanted meaning. But the paycheck was holding her back.

What if she could have both, I asked. Money and meaning? A purpose she believed in? People she loved working with?

Suddenly she lit up.

“That could happen, couldn’t it?”

Is it worth a try?

Sometimes just knowing that something is possible is enough.

Ten months later she had a new job, making more money, plus an equity stake, at a firm whose purpose she really connected to.

Two years after that her new employer went public.

The insight she had was virtually priceless.

What are you not seeing? What’s really possible for you?