An Anti-Post for a Dreary February Afternoon
This morning, as the grey sky hangs low and the air feels thick with routine, I’ve decided to write an anti-post. A break from the relentless tide of self-promotion—yes, even my own. There’s something wearying about the echo chamber of self-congratulation, where praise feels less like recognition and more like a performance. My mother had a saying for it: “Well, they do have a great welcome for themselves.”
So instead of highlighting achievements, I’ll hang out a few of my flaws, like laundry swaying in the wind:
Not particularly academic. Educated, yes, but never the top of the class. No perfect scores, no gold stars. Just someone who got by—(although I continuously added qualifications at night in courses that I did love in hindsight, most recently my coaching qualification)
A winding career path. Patience was never my virtue, and I had no desire to climb the rungs of a corporate ladder that drained the soul. I took detours, walked away, and sometimes leapt without looking. (Though, if I’m honest, I was headhunted a few times—wait, is that bragging? Probably.)
Deep-seated self-doubt. A conservative, Catholic-led upbringing instilled a brand of shame in thinking that left its mark. There were parts of myself I felt I had to tuck away, uncertainties I carried long after I outgrew them.
People first, always. I’ve spent a lifetime wanting others to succeed, to feel good, to get what they need—sometimes at the expense of my own needs. Inner child, take note: boundaries matter.
High expectations & standards. Punctuality, communication, effort—I expect from others what I give. And when it’s not met, frustration follows. A work in progress.
But here’s the thing—these so-called flaws? They’ve shaped me and helped build resilience, sharpened my intuition, increased my compassion and have given me an edge in both life and business.
So if you, like me, find yourself feeling a little disillusioned on this cold Monday, weary of the endless self-applause filling your feed, take a breath. Look back at your own quiet triumphs—the way you show up, the work you do, the care you put into your world. It matters – you matter, keep going on your own unique and wonderful path.
And remember: empty vessels make the most noise.