Merriam-Webster (you know, the dictionary) named “authentic” as the word of the year for 2023. It certainly was for me. I’ll tell you why. My why.
On December 28, 2022, my friend Sheri and I sat in my kitchen drinking prosecco after a particularly challenging year. After a glass or two we got to complaining about the world of fake experts and people out there speaking and teaching on topics they have no real experience in. In some cases, we had more experience in those areas than they did. And yet, I said, we aren’t putting ourselves out there, so can we really complain? To which Sheri (now famously) replied in her faint east coaster accent (stronger after a couple drinks), “if you don’t tell your story, some blowhard will.” And then she said that she’s always wanted to do a podcast. I enthusiastically exclaimed, “let’s do it!” But we couldn’t decide what the topic should be.
A few weeks later, January 2023, it was decided: we would launch a podcast on how to build your personal brand. Why did I decide to start a podcast about personal brand? It’s not a topic that gets discussed very often…which is exactly the point.
My ‘why’ started way back in kindergarten. Don’t worry, I’m not about to chronicle my entire life story. But isn’t every big ‘why’ anchored in a story? Mine is immortalized in a yellowing newspaper clipping from the Dawson Creek Daily Mirror circa 1989. A children’s singer came to give a concert at my school and there was a photo on the front page of the paper (this was apparently big news in Dawson Creek in the late 80s).
There I was in the front row, pigtails perkily perched atop my head, gazing up at this ‘celebrity’, fangirling. The story behind this photo is where it all begins. As the story goes, at some point during the concert, I was so moved by the music that I jumped up on stage and started dancing, fingers pointing in the air, butt wiggling, pigtails swinging about. It was probably Les Blues de Hamburger - that song was ahead of its time.
To those who know me today, this sudden performative outburst is not a shock. They may even remark, “yep, that’s on brand.” That’s who I was (and am): a little performer.
Over time, I received messages – overt and subtle – from people, systems and society that it was wrong to be that way. You shouldn’t want to be the center of attention. You should talk a little less, be a little less intense.
For years, I heeded those messages (with minor bouts of rebellion sprinkled in now and then). I chose relationships and jobs that reinforced them. Where I played support roles, helping others build their brands.
Along the way I convinced myself that was what I was meant to be: a behind-the-scenes person. The one who wrote the speeches, but never the one to give them. The one to prepare people for media interviews, but never be in front of the camera.
I was the guy behind the guy. That was my place. I was sure of it.
However, my career evolved and I ended up taking on roles where I was expected to give presentations, media interviews and even big speeches. Gasp. Me? No! I was terrified. This wasn’t me. I was the behind-the-scenes person. But I faced my fears and did it. (And I enjoyed it.)
Even still, I was getting messages from others that it wasn’t okay. I shouldn’t be enjoying it, or I was enjoying it too much. "You just love having a profile." "Be careful, it’s addicting." "You’re all about building your brand, all about yourself." The words came at me like daggers and cut me to my core. That’s not who I thought I was or who I wanted to be. A war waged within me - I kept doing the things my job expected of me (and that I loved) but then I felt ashamed for doing them, and for loving them.
Then, one November, I got a wake up call. Literally. I woke up one morning and realized I didn’t recognize myself. I didn’t feel like myself. I didn’t know who I was. I felt like I had lost myself somewhere along the way and had no idea how to find her again.
A few days later, one sleepless night, I was trying to keep my brain busy so I started sorting through a box of old childhood junk my parents dropped off. I found a My School Years book and pulled out the contents from the kindergarten pouch. There it was, the newspaper clipping of me, the fangirl and impromptu back-up dancer. I smiled recalling the story and started reading my old elementary school report cards.
It occurred to me that to figure out who I was before everyone got in my head, I had to go all the way back, and what better way than to read the words of people whose job it was to observe and report on who I was.
My teachers all commented on how I loved drama, music, anything arts and performance related. (They also said I “played hard” in sports — there’s that intensity…) Then I found pictures of myself competing in a speech competition in grades four, five and six. It all started coming back, even the Christmas plays I would write, direct and produce, and force my my younger cousins to star in for the family.
That’s when I realized: this is the girl I’ve always been, I just hid her away to make some people more comfortable. Then I asked myself: How could being myself be wrong?
I decided to start being true to myself, the little performer, and lean into my strengths, what brings me joy. The criticisms didn’t stop, but I was fortified by knowing that this is who I am meant to be, and I decided I don’t have to be for everyone.
A year later, a few weeks before the prosecco kitchen party with Sheri, I was told “you’re really good at building the Lynette brand, but not the company brand”. Everything I did was to build the company brand, I was just using my voice to do it. By this point, I had done the work and knew that when someone says something like that to you, that’s not feedback. It’s just a critical statement that’s more about them than it is about you.
Still, it irked me. I reflected on that statement and all the other similar statements people had made to me over the years. I wrote them down in my journal, and then, I wrote down the truth. My truth:
They say I’m an attention seeker and all I care about is profile.
The truth is I’m a born performer. It gives me energy to entertain, inspire and motivate people with my words. It’s my superpower and I’m using it to help others because that’s what I care about.
Then, I had a eureka moment. I called up Sheri and said “I know what we should do our podcast about - let’s do it about how to build your personal brand, because apparently I’m good at it!” We both had a good (somewhat maniacal) laugh.
Yes, that critical comment gave me the inspiration for our podcast topic. But my true 'why' came from my own decades-long journey of self-abandonment, self-rediscovery, self-acceptance, and finally self-love.
I thought to myself that I can’t be the only one receiving these messages or who has walked this path. I want to help other people explore who they are and support them in putting themselves out there. Help them deal with the fear, self-doubt and other peoples’ opinions, which are inevitable.
Because who we are matters.
The world needs us to be who we were born to be, not who someone else tells us to be. Not who someone else is comfortable with us being. More than that, we deserve it.
Whether you’re a little performer like me, or an introvert, or a caregiver, or knowledge seeker or any number of other things; you are special. I believe everyone deserves to know their 'why', to be their authentic self, and to be celebrated for it - so we are building a community that does just that.