You know that moment in a meeting when someone pushes back on your idea and “Sorry, but—” is out of your mouth before you’ve even registered you’re talking? Or the email where you type “Sorry to bother you” ahead of a question you have every right to ask?

That’s not manners. That’s a reflex apology for having a thought at work.

It shows up everywhere once you start noticing it: “Sorry, quick question.” “Sorry to jump in.” None of these are apologies for doing anything wrong. They’re a verbal tic that softens your presence before anyone’s even heard what you have to say.

Everyone will tell you it’s conditioning, and sure, some of it is. For me, upon reflection, a lot of it had to do with the bar I hold myself to, and being considerate of others. Maybe that’s your story too. Or maybe you genuinely care about the person on the other end and hate making someone wait, so “sorry for the delay” feels like decency, not deficit. Maybe you can turn around more in less time than almost anyone around you, and you take real pride in that.

Whatever it is, none of it needs fixing. What needs to change is the reflex that converts your standards, your care, and your capacity into apology instead of ownership. Because every unnecessary "sorry" front-loads doubt before anyone's heard what you actually have to say, trains the room to expect a smaller version of you, and leaves less weight for the real apology you'll need someday.

Don’t get me wrong: own your real mistakes, fully and fast. That’s accountability, not weakness. The problem isn’t apologizing. It’s apologizing for existing in the room.

Ways to Flourish:

• Swap “sorry” for “thanks” where you can — “thanks for your patience” lands better than “sorry I’m late,” and says something true.

• Practice saying the ask without the preamble. Send the raw sentence. Notice nothing bad happens.

• If your sorries show up mostly in email and text replies, consider updating your own personal Service Level Agreement — deciding your own response windows instead of feeling like you have to react to every ping like it’s urgent.

Different shifts, same underlying move: each one takes you from “I am imposing on you” to “I am a person with legitimate needs, boundaries, and opinions.”

You don't owe any room a smaller version of yourself. Bring the whole one.

There’s a familiar moment in corporate life: you have a new idea, you’re energized by it, you think you’ve spotted something important, and your instinct is to ask for resources right away. More funding. More people. More budget. Perhaps you’ve even been asked for potential projects to fund when there is a gap to fill or surplus budget to fuel new growth.

I’ve been on both sides of the table: the one asking for funding and the one approving it. And I’ve seen what makes resource requests succeed, or stall.

Broadly speaking, the best way to get approval is to demonstrate what you’ve already done (even an experiment) and ask for the first step that will prove the idea can succeed.

You can deliberately design your approach to inspire that confidence. Here’s how.

1. Aim your idea at what matters most.

If the request doesn’t hit a top priority, everything else is noise.

One of the fastest ways to get a “no” is to pitch something disconnected from what matters most right now. Leaders operate in a world of trade-offs. Focus on what matters most.

This doesn’t have to be a company-wide priority. It can be the most pressing issue inside your product line, business unit, or team. The question is simply: Does this solve a problem we’ve already agreed is important?

Before you pitch, ask yourself:

• Is this solving a top problem for my organization, product line, or team?

• Does it compound momentum somewhere else? (This might be a nice added bonus)

• Does this steal oxygen from another priority? (Might still be possible, but know how it stacks up against what’s already funded.)

If your idea doesn’t clear this filter, no amount of ROI modeling will change the outcome. Not because the idea isn’t good, but because it’s not the thing that matters most right now. Leaders are trying to protect focus.

2. Build a business case that’s grounded in reality.

Skip the fairy tale. Show your work.

A credible business case isn’t about theatrics—it’s about clarity. At minimum, it should cover:

• What is the problem or opportunity?

• What’s happening today?

• What would it take to change it?

• What are your reasons to believe? (data, market signals, credible proxies)

The strongest cases go one step further. They show your thinking discipline:

• You explored multiple paths and ruled out the weaker ones.

• You’re transparent about what you don’t know.

• You have a clear plan for validating assumptions.

• You’ve identified the riskiest unknowns and have a plan to test them first.

Weak business cases sound like: Give me people → we’ll build a genius thing → money will rain from the sky.

Strong ones are grounded in a range of outcomes, clarity on what matters most to validate, and a plan to prove or kill the idea fast.

3. Show you’ve invested in the idea, not just pitched it.

If you haven’t put skin in the game, why should they?

This is one of the most overlooked signals in resource requests. The best pitches show that the person making the ask has already made trade-offs in service of the idea. They’ve given it time, attention, and organizational calories before asking anyone else to.

Have you:

• Redirected team time or budget?

• Run a scrappy experiment?

• Created an outline or crude prototype?

• Gathered early customer or market signal?

• Prioritized it over something else?

Because conviction isn’t about saying, “I’m passionate about this.” Conviction is: “I’ve already put something meaningful behind this.” People who invest early de-risk the ask. They demonstrate commitment. They show they’re not gambling with someone else’s chips.

4. Frame the ask as a milestone, and show the bigger picture.

Start small. Think big. Make it low-risk to say yes.

This is where most resource requests fall apart: they’re pitched as an all-or-nothing proposition. Everything you need for the entire journey. Every dollar. Every headcount. Every dependency.

That’s not how leaders think. They want to reduce uncertainty quickly and cheaply.

Instead of asking for the full blueprint on day one, shape your ask around the next meaningful milestone: “If we invest X now, we’ll know by Y whether this merits Z next step.”

This does two things simultaneously:

1. It lowers the decision-maker’s risk.

2. It shows them you understand how to stage-gate and manage ambiguity.

That said, don’t stop at the milestone. Leaders also want to see your sense of the full arc—what long-term success could look like, what it may ultimately require, and what the potential upside is.

I always wanted to see what you need now and know what the ultimate vision could require. Not because I’d fund it all upfront, but because I didn’t want to be surprised later. When you map both the short-term and the long-term, you’re showing you can be trusted with more than this one ask.

The Best Leaders Get Started

If you have a great idea, don’t wait for funding to get started. The best leaders aren’t stalled by approvals; they constantly look for ways to make a difference, take action, and prove what’s possible.

If you want people to believe in your idea, show them why you already do.

If you want them to take a risk, show them why the risk is low.

If you want them to say yes, make it easy, and make it inevitable.

Get started. Make the momentum impossible to ignore.

You know her. She’s the one who reads every draft, takes every coffee chat, covers every gap nobody assigned her. She’s also sometimes stalled two levels below where her work says she should be.

Here’s my take, and I want to be upfront about it: I’m all in on being a giver. So much of my career success actually came from help I gave without keeping score. But women in particular need to watch the line between generous and depleted, because we get handed that line to walk far more often than we get told where it is.

In Give and Take, organizational psychologist Adam Grant sorts how people show up at work into three styles.

Takers try to get more than they give and claim credit for group wins.

Matchers keep it even, tit for tat.

Givers help without keeping score.

Most people assume takers win. Grant’s research says otherwise, and the twist is the part that matters most for us: givers occupy both ends of the success ladder. The people who finish last at work are disproportionately givers. So are the people who finish first. Same instinct, opposite outcomes. What splits them isn’t how much they give. It’s whether they give without a floor.

Grant calls the burned-out version “selfless” giving: help with no boundary, no reciprocity, no read on your own capacity. The version that actually builds power he calls “otherish,” ambitious for yourself and generous with others at the same time, on purpose. Otherish givers ask what they need before they say yes. They give in ways that also build their reputation, their network, their case for the next role. They treat their own advancement as a legitimate input, not something to apologize for.

That distinction matters more for women than the research spends time on. We’re the ones handed the emotional labor, the notetaking, the onboarding of every new hire, usually with an unspoken expectation that we’ll say yes and never mention what it costs us. Grant’s data says the fix isn’t to give less. It’s to stop treating your own name on the ledger as optional.

Ways to run this at work:

• Give visibly, not invisibly. If you’re mentoring someone, sponsoring a project, covering for a teammate, say so, where it counts. Not for credit-grabbing. For accuracy. Invisible giving trains people to assume the work does itself.

• Give in your lane of leverage. Grant’s “five-minute favor” idea, help that costs you little but means a lot to the other person, works. What doesn’t work is becoming the default yes for anything anyone needs, regardless of whether it uses your actual strengths. Otherish giving is targeted, not universal.

• Filter out the takers. Grant’s research is clear that generous cultures don’t just need more givers, they need fewer takers with room to operate. One taker in a group can shut down cooperation for everyone else, often by managing perception rather than doing the work. If you want the fuller map for spotting this in real time, this is the same dynamic I break down as image-driven versus impact-driven in my Decoded piece on reading your coworkers. Knowing who’s taking credit for your giving isn’t cynicism. It’s information.

• Build your coven, not just your contact list. Grant found that givers build the strongest, widest networks because they’re not keeping a running tally of who owes them. I’d push that further. Your network isn’t just contacts, it’s how you build influence, and influence travels through trust the way trust travels through people. The strongest networks combine mentors who guide, peers who challenge, and advocates who open doors without being asked. For women, that often includes what I call your coven: the women who aren’t threatened by your ambition, who see your light and help you make it shine brighter. Give generously into that circle. It’s the giving that comes back fastest, because it was never one-directional to begin with.

The official path says good work speaks for itself and generosity is its own reward. Neither is entirely true on its own. Give like it’s an investment, because it is one. Do it well enough, for long enough, and generosity stops being something you have to protect yourself from. It becomes armor: a reputation people trust, that opens doors before you ask, and that makes room for the next woman coming up behind you.

Regarding a recent Member Q&A: How to Share Your Work Without Feeling Like You’re Bragging, a member asked: is it ever okay to just celebrate without turning it into a teaching moment?

Q: Recently you talked about sharing insights and lessons, but what about when there IS no lesson? Is it ever okay to just... brag? Or does everything have to have a teaching moment attached?

A: Yes. It’s absolutely okay to brag sometimes. And no, not everything needs a lesson attached!

On the initial self-promotion question: the feeling doesn’t fully go away, but shifting from “look at me” to “here’s what might help you” changes everything. Self-promotion centers you. Visibility as service centers the value.

For today: that frame works for day-to-day sharing — project updates, insights, the regular stuff. But some wins deserve to just be celebrated, and forcing a lesson onto them makes the post feel less genuine.

And it’s fine to want people to react. Wanting your community to celebrate with you isn’t a character flaw, it’s the whole point of having a community. You don’t need to earn the right to post good news.

Here are a few ideas to help make a win-share feel good instead of awkward:

• You received external recognition. “Honored to be named to the XYZ list. Grateful to the team that made this possible.” Someone else already said you’re great — you’re just passing along the news. Keep it short, credit others, move on.

• You tried something scary and did it anyway. “I gave my first conference talk last week and was terrified. But I said yes anyway.” The fear makes it relatable, not performative. You’re showing the process, not just the outcome.

• You bet on yourself and it worked. “Two years ago I left corporate to build my own thing. There were months I wasn’t sure it would work. But I’m proud of where it’s landed.” Surviving a real risk is worth marking — and it gives other people permission to take theirs.

And honestly? Sometimes you just want to celebrate. That’s human. If you’ve built trust with your audience, and if this isn’t the only thing you post ever, one celebration among your usual useful stuff won’t read as performative. It’ll read as real.

So: share the promotion, the award, the milestone!

I sat down with Nancy McClelland and Questian Telka on the SheCounts podcast to talk about something most career advice gets wrong: the idea that you have to become more confident before you’re allowed to act like it. Nancy and Questian ask the kind of questions that get past the polished answer, and this conversation went places I didn’t expect going in.

Here’s what I’ve learned— authority isn’t a personality trait. It’s a behavior. And you don’t earn access to it by feeling ready. You access it because the moment demands it.

We get into where my worst 6th grade nickname came from, why an alter ego isn’t the same as faking it, and the small rituals that make it easier to act with authority before you feel it internally.

If you’ve ever sat in a meeting knowing you needed to speak up and waited a beat too long, this one’s for you.

Full episode and show notes here

Other ways to listen:

Apple Podcasts

Spotify

YouTube

Thank you to Nancy and Questian for having me — this was one of my favorite conversations to record, and I hope it gives you a little more permission to act before you feel ready.

I've been told I was too much. I've been told I wasn't being real enough. I've been told to bring my whole self to work, and also known my whole self better look the part.

If you've ever gotten contradictory feedback about who you are at work, today's conversation is for you.

Today at noon Pacific Time, I’m sitting down with executive coach Cate Goethals for a conversation I’ve been wanting to have for a while.

We’re getting into the questions that don’t usually get asked out loud:

• What does authenticity actually mean — and what are most people getting wrong about it?

• How do you find the right level: enough to connect, not so much it costs you?

• How do you show up as yourself when the feedback on that has been contradictory?

No slides. No panel. A real conversation, and you’re in it.

If you’re already registered, your link is in your confirmation email. See you at noon.

If you haven’t grabbed a spot yet, we have room and would love to have you.

Register here: https://luma.com/jgw4fgab

Can’t make it live? I’ll be sharing key takeaways afterward, so you won’t miss the insights.

This question references two recent Guest Mentor columns from Stephiney Foley on How to Build a Personal Brand Without Feeling Like a Self-Promoter & Emily Parkhurst on Why Women Need to Stop Waiting to Be “Ready” Before They Share Their Expertise.

Q: In recent guest mentor columns, both Emily and Stephiney talk about visibility as service, not self-promotion. But how do you internalize that when it still FEELS like self-promotion every time you post, or when sharing your work internally feels like bragging?

A: This is such a good question, and honestly, the feeling doesn’t always go away completely. But what helps is shifting the frame from “look at me” to “here’s what I learned that might help you.”

The difference between visibility and self-promotion isn’t what you’re sharing—it’s why you’re sharing it and how you’re framing it. Self-promotion centers you. Visibility as service centers the value or insight.

Three things that help:

1. Lead with the lesson, not the accomplishment. Instead of “I led a project that increased revenue by 20%,” try “We tested three approaches to improving retention, here’s what actually moved the number.” The work becomes the proof, not the point.

2. Make it useful to someone else. Ask yourself: if someone reads this or hears this, what can they do with it? If the answer is “nothing, they’ll just know I’m great,” reframe it. You’re in service territory when they can avoid the mistake you made or try the approach that worked.

3. Share the context, not just the win. Vulnerability and specificity make visibility feel like service instead of performance.

What actually helped me lock this in was creating a rhythm. I’d block time every Friday morning over coffee to reflect on the week and queue up one insight: something I learned, a mistake we avoided, a conversation that shifted my thinking. Sometimes it became a note to my team, sometimes an update to leadership. The point wasn’t perfection; it was consistency. And I’d use external meetings as forcing functions too—after a client conversation or industry event, I’d ask myself what’s the one thing that came up that my team or network should know? Send it while it’s fresh. Then it’s more about “what’s worth passing along” than “look at me.”

Honestly, even when you get the frame right, it can still feel uncomfortable—especially for women, who are socialized to be modest and penalized when we’re not. But discomfort doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. It means you’re doing something that doesn’t come naturally yet.

REMINDER – Live event next Tuesday on Authenticity!

Next Tuesday, June 30th at noon PT, I’m hosting a live conversation with Cate Goethals, an executive coach who works with high-achieving women, to talk about authenticity. This one is open to anyone who’s ever had to calculate how much of themselves to bring into a room.

Spots are limited and paid members have reserved seats. Register to claim one — and if you’re new to Career Hack, consider this your invitation in.

Register here: https://luma.com/jgw4fgab

My daughter just finished 8th grade. I’m actually heading to the graduation ceremony right after I hit publish on this. This milestone has me thinking about transitions— the moments where one chapter closes and the next one hasn’t quite started yet. I’ve heard this from a lot of you right now as well. Whether you’re in a role that’s starting to feel too small, between jobs, or figuring out what’s next, that in-between space keeps coming up in what you’re sharing with me. It’s where the most important decisions get made.

This summer I’m using that energy to try some new things at Career Hack. Here’s what’s coming.

• One post a week, mid-week. For live event days you’ll get a post Tuesday as a final reminder, otherwise expect to see me in your inbox each Wednesday.

• A live event the last Tuesday of every month. Starting June 30th, I’m hosting a monthly live Zoom conversation with leaders worth learning from. First up: executive coach Cate Goethals on authenticity at work — what it actually means, and why “just be yourself” is only half the answer. These events are free and open to everyone. Paid members get a saved seat. Register for June 30th here.

• A 25-minute walk & talk with me. For paid members — more on that below.

If you’re not a paid member, or not interested in a live chat, I’d love to hear from you — your questions and feedback help me create content and support that’s most useful for you.

Share questions & feedback

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Kara Fitzpatrick is a chief of staff coach and a dynamic leader and force multiplier who has worked on global stages like the Super Bowl, Oscars, and Women's World Cup, and served in two White Houses under Presidents Biden and Obama.

We’re often told to advocate for ourselves, to make sure we get credit, to ensure our contributions are visible. That’s important. But there’s another path to influence that doesn’t get talked about enough—one where giving glory away actually amplifies your power.

Cassie: You have a leadership principle called “Give Away the Glory.” What does that mean, and how does it fit with the advice women constantly hear to advocate for ourselves?

Kara: Let’s start by defining glory. Some define it as market success, or money, others by solo efforts or random acts of genius. For me, the glory revolves around the people.

I define it as looking for opportunities to raise people up. To let them know not only are they doing a good job, but looking for ways to make sure others know it, too. To share the credit.

Amina Sow and her podcast co-host Ann Friedman created something called The Shine Theory: “I don’t shine if you don’t shine.”

That’s what giving away the glory is really about.

Cassie: So how does this actually work in practice? What does “giving away glory” look like day-to-day?

Kara: It starts with figuring out what makes people tick, what their individual personalities would appreciate, how like to receive credit or recognition. Each person has their own preference for praise. Some people are okay with public recognition, like at an all-team meeting. For others, that would be devastatingly embarrassing.

For people who are okay with individual recognition, you can:

• Give verbal recognition in front of the group

• Shout them out in a newsletter or at all-hands meetings

• Give them more visible work

For those who may melt or shy away from public praise, you can give them:

• Verbal one-on-one recognition

• Little handwritten notes or a quick Slack message

• Flowers or a gift basket from a local small business, or a gift certificate to a neighborhood restaurant

And for everyone, regardless of preference, celebrate key milestones in meaningful ways. Embrace the pause. Find ways to celebrate with—and for—your team. We had a tradition at a former company of champagne and cupcakes on launch days or key release days. I still do it to this day.

Creating shared moments between the team members creates lasting effects. Running a marathon at a sprint’s pace for weeks or months at a time isn’t sustainable or tenable; it’s actually detrimental to the health and happiness of your team.

Cassie: There’s another level to this too—not just recognizing your team, but actively stepping back from opportunities yourself. How do you think about that?

Kara: When someone comes to you asking you to do one of these things:

• Speaking at conferences

• Case studies

• Press interviews or stories

Here’s a key thing you can choose to do: Take a moment and ask yourself whether it has to be you, or can you suggest someone from your team? You don’t always have to be the one talking about or being interviewed about the work. Take a step back and let others on the team step into that opportunity to shine.

I have friends who decline conference panel invitations if it’s all males on the panel, and they actively suggest women, people of color, and LGBT folks to take their place. Even better if it breaks up the diversity of the same types of people who we always see for these types of things.

Cassie: For someone reading this thinking “But I also need to build my own visibility and credibility”—especially women who already struggle to get recognized—how does giving glory away fit with advocating for yourself?

Kara: When you consistently raise other people up, your influence grows. People remember how you made them feel. They remember that you gave them opportunities. They want to work with you again. And hopefully, when they’re in a position to pay it forward themselves, they do.

That repeat collaborator phenomenon we talked about in leading without authority? A huge part of that comes from giving away the glory. When people feel valued, recognized, and given opportunities to shine, they don’t just do good work—they become your advocates. They tell others about working with you. They seek you out for the next project.

Success isn’t a zero-sum game. There isn’t one finite pie we’re all competing for. Let them have their success. And let yourself define and chase yours.

The Shine Theory isn’t just nice—it’s strategic. When you help others shine, you create a network of people who’ve experienced your leadership firsthand. That’s a foundation you can’t buy. It’s another strategy for building influence—one that compounds over time.

Cassie: If someone wants to start practicing this, what’s one thing they could do this week?

Kara: Take a pause, and reflect. Was there a time this week—or is there one coming up—where you can let someone else do the interview, present to senior staff, or have the spotlight?

Or even simpler: send a note to someone on your team, or another person at your company. A person who you’ve noticed who needs a pick me up, or who’s done a good job lately and maybe hasn’t been recognized. The note doesn’t have to be long. It just has to be genuine.

You never know the difference a small gesture can make. I once sent a note that just said “Thank you for doing that this week! YOU ROCK.” Their reply ended up rocking me: “You always seem to reach out just when I need it most, and I didn’t know I needed to hear it. I was ready to walk away today, then your note showed up.”

Be kind. Care. And show it through actions— and words.

Cassie: Here’s what struck me about this conversation: Kara doesn’t give away the glory to build influence. She does it because it’s the right thing to do and because it feels good to see other people shine.

What I know from watching leaders like Kara is that when you operate this way—when you consistently raise people up, create opportunities for others, and celebrate their wins—influence follows anyway. Not because you engineered it, but because people remember how you made them feel.

The Shine Theory isn’t transactional. It’s a way of being. And it turns out that building real power doesn’t require stepping on others or hoarding credit. It requires the opposite.

So here’s the question: Is there someone on your team who deserves recognition you haven’t given? Is there an opportunity coming up where you could step back and let someone else shine?

Start there.

Want more insights on leadership and creating healthy, high-performing teams? Check out Kara’s site.

You’ve gotten the feedback. Maybe both versions of it.

Be more yourself. Let people see you. And also: You need to read the room better. Dial it back.

If you’ve ever sat with those two pieces of advice at the same time and thought, wait, which is it, you’re not confused. You’re paying attention.

Authenticity is one of those words that gets thrown around like everyone agrees on what it means. But most people have never stopped to ask the first question: What is my most authentic self, anyway? Not the self that shows up when you’re frustrated. Not the self that performs confidence you don’t feel. Your actual best self, and what it looks like when you let that person into the room.

That question is harder than it sounds. And it gets more complicated every time the context shifts: a new role, a new team, a new room.

There’s also a version of this specific to women. We’re told to be warm and authoritative. To show vulnerability but not too much. To be relatable and unimpeachable. The instruction set is contradictory by design, and navigating it takes real skill. Not just self-awareness, but strategy.

On June 30th, I’m hosting a live conversation with Cate Goethals, an executive coach who works with high-achieving women at exactly these inflection points. This one is open to anyone who’s ever had to calculate how much of themselves to bring into a room.

We’re going to get into the questions that rarely get asked out loud, let alone answered honestly:

• What does authenticity actually mean, and what are most people getting wrong about it?

• How do you find the right level: enough to connect, not so much it costs you?

• How do you show up as yourself when the feedback on that has been contradictory?

This isn’t a panel or a presentation. It’s a real conversation, and you’re in it. The kind where you leave with something you can actually use.

Spots are limited and paid members have reserved seats. Register to claim one — and if you’re new to Career Hack, consider this your invitation in.

Join us Tuesday, June 30th at noon PT.

Register here: https://luma.com/jgw4fgab

Audra Query is the founder of Girl Meets Dirt, an artisanal preserves company that has won 11 Good Food Awards and ships from Orcas Island across the country. Before building her business from the ground up, she spent nearly a decade in finance at Goldman Sachs. In this conversation, we’re exploring what it means to recognize when the path to success stops being your path, how to trust your instincts when making a major pivot, and why building a meaningful life sometimes means walking away from what you worked so hard to achieve.

Most of us assume the goal is to climb higher—to get the big job, get the promotion, reach the next level. But what happens when you reach a milestone and realize it’s showing you a future you don’t actually want? For Audra, that moment came on the day her boss at Goldman Sachs made partner.

Cassie: You spent nearly a decade building a career in finance at Goldman Sachs—without ever having taken a finance course. That takes serious determination. So, what made you walk away from all of that?

Audra: The day my boss at Goldman Sachs made partner, it hit me: I don’t want her life.

She had just gotten married, just turned 40, just had her first child, and just moved to the suburbs. I admired her power, her intelligence, her ability to juggle what felt like arduous demands. But watching her reach that milestone showed me exactly what my future would look like if I stayed—and I realized it wasn’t the future I wanted.

I didn’t take giving up a 10-year career lightly, but I trusted my gut, and that quiet but getting louder rumble: this is not the way.

So, I quit. Pocketed my savings for seed money for whatever was to come. Bought 5 acres with my then-husband on an island in the Salish Sea. We saw the property one rainy Pacific Northwest grey day—I mused at the fenced garden lining the drive and thought, “These people have a nice life.” We moved in by February 2011.

I had no idea what was next, but I trusted my instinct. I got my hands dirty.

Photo: Audra’s 9 year-old daughter watching her speak

Cassie: You went from Goldman Sachs to… farming? How did Girl Meets Dirt actually begin?

Audra: Girl Meets Dirt is the evolution of the literal practice of me diving into a pile of seed packets and teaching myself to grow things, seed by seed.

I rigged up a greenhouse in the potting shed and spent my days getting my hands dirty. That first summer when the lone Shiro Plum tree yielded 150 pounds of plums, I thought, coming from a pie-making tradition—”That’s a lot of pies”—and promptly bought a copper pot and taught myself to preserve.

As I gifted a new neighbor the fruit of my bounty (little jewels in glass jars), he offered me his pears, born from derelict trees then 120 years old, from a long-gone orchard legacy that made Orcas Island the fruit basket of the west in the early 1900s.

I would have never imagined myself a jam maker, crafting preserves that make their way across the country, each one shipped by the ferry. But here I am.

Cassie: Looking back now, 12 years and 11 Good Food Awards later, what would you say to women who are feeling that same quiet rumble—that sense that the path they’re on isn’t the right one—but are terrified to make a change?

Audra: A very special woman once suggested to me, deep in a period of questioning in my early 20s: “Whatever you choose, remember that it could have been otherwise. Maybe fulfillment will come from an altogether different and surprising direction. Maybe you will realize only decades later that your life has indeed been meaningful in the process of living it.”

I’d say she’s right.

You don’t have to have the next 10 years figured out. You just have to trust that quiet voice getting louder. The one telling you: this is not the way.

Cassie: This conversation reminds me that success isn’t about reaching the top of someone else’s ladder. It’s about recognizing when the path you’re on is taking you somewhere you don’t actually want to go—and having the courage to choose differently.

For women especially, there’s so much pressure to be grateful for opportunities, to keep climbing, to prove we can do it all. But what Audra shows us is that walking away from what you worked hard to achieve isn’t failure. Sometimes it’s the most strategic move you can make.

Get yourself some Girl Meets Dirt!! Preserves are now in Whole Foods across the Pacific Northwest and Northern California, Nugget Markets in NorCal, and have just launched with The Fresh Market chain in the Southeast. Twelve years from that first Shiro Plum harvest to national retail shelves: that’s what trusting your gut looks like. 👏🏻

And if you haven’t tried them paired with cheese, you’re missing out. I’ve tried more than 10 and they’re hands-down the best companions for a cheeseboard in my life.

Not near a store? Check out Girl Meets Dirt online!

When I was growing up, my mom and Aunt Rosemary had a Saturday morning ritual they called “sailing.” They’d ask each other on Friday nights — should we go sailing tomorrow? — with enough sincerity that you’d think someone owned a boat. It was their completely straight-faced way of asking whether to hit every garage sale within a ten-mile radius before noon.

I was eleven when I decided I had to have Guess jeans. At $50, basically our entire back-to-school budget, my mom wasn’t buying them new. I thought that was that. She said to keep looking.

A few weeks later, I found a perfect pair at a garage sale for a quarter. They single-handedly improved sixth grade.

I’ve thought about that quarter a lot since then. Not because it was lucky, but because of what my mom and aunt already knew that I was just starting to learn: the thing you want is rarely only available one way, at one price.

That dynamic plays out in every workplace I’ve ever been in. Most people see the official pathways. The posted job openings. The formal promotion track. The standard networking events with the lanyards and the lukewarm coffee. And those paths are real, and they’re also where everyone else is standing.

The people who move fastest aren’t waiting in that line. They’re building relationships before job postings exist. They’re creating visibility through cross-functional work that nobody asked them to do. They’re raising their hands for the unglamorous high-stakes project that puts them in a room they wouldn’t otherwise be in. They’ve developed a feel for how the system actually works, not just how it’s supposed to work, and that knowledge opens doors that most people don’t even know are there.

Waiting for the perfect opportunity, the obvious opening, the moment when everything lines up — that’s the scarcity move. It assumes there’s one path and you’d better not miss it. The abundance move is staying curious enough to keep looking, even when the official store doesn’t have what you need.

What I’ve Learned

Most of this isn’t about being lucky. It’s about knowing where to look.

Systems have more entry points than they advertise. The posted path is real, but it’s not the only one. The people who advance fastest have usually done the work of understanding how things actually move in their organization — who has influence, where decisions really get made, which opportunities create visibility before they’re formally announced.

Waiting for perfect conditions is a scarcity move. When you believe there’s only one right path, you treat every missed opportunity like a loss. When you see multiple paths, you can act rather than wait. The goal doesn’t change. Your willingness to find a different route to it does. (I’ve seen women do this more than most. We’re conditioned to wait for permission, to follow the official process, to not overstep, and that conditioning is expensive.)

Small steps compound faster than you think. Your quarter-jean moment might be a lunch conversation, a volunteer opportunity, or saying yes to something that seems only tangentially related to where you’re headed. Each one builds credibility, visibility, and momentum toward something bigger.

The unofficial network is where a lot of the real information lives. Opportunities often surface in different departments, through unexpected connections, in conversations that weren’t supposed to be about work at all. Stay curious about people outside your obvious orbit.

The best opportunities aren’t always where you first look. Sometimes they’re one table over from where you started.

Something to Try

You don’t have to overhaul your strategy, just start looking in one more place.

• Before you wait for the perfect opportunity, map at least three alternative paths to the same goal. Maybe the promotion isn’t available right now — but a cross-functional project, a stretch assignment, or a high-visibility initiative might get you to the same place by a different route. Write them down. Pick one and start moving.

• Ask yourself regularly: who do I not know that I should? Opportunities surface through people as often as they surface through job boards. Make a habit of extending your network beyond your immediate function and comfort zone — different departments, different industries, people whose work only tangentially overlaps with yours.

• When you feel stuck, change the question. Instead of “why isn’t this working,” try “what’s another way this could work?” It’s a small shift that trains your brain to look for doors instead of staring at the wall.

• Say yes to the thing that seems adjacent — when it builds visibility, access, or a relationship you don’t already have. The off-path opportunity is sometimes the one that puts you somewhere you couldn’t have planned your way into. If it only adds work, that’s a different conversation.

My mom and aunt went sailing every Saturday because they were scrappy people stretching a budget. What I took from it was something bigger: the thing you want exists in more places than the obvious one, and the people who find it are the ones who don’t stop looking.

The official path is real. It’s just not the only one, and it’s rarely where the best finds are.

What would you go after if you stopped assuming there was only one way to get there?

I’ve been the golden child. I’ve also been the question mark.

I know what it feels like to be the person everyone wants in the room—sought out, included, valued. And I know the particular sting of watching that shift.

I’ve also sat with friends, family members, and people I deeply admire as they’ve gone through their own versions of it, the quiet devastation that comes when your sense of professional identity takes a hit, whatever the cause.

Right now, a lot of people I admire—colleagues, people in my network, members of my team—have been hit by layoffs. Some of them just last week.

This one’s for them, and for anyone else who needs to hear it:

Give yourself more grace than you think you deserve right now.

My brother once called our dad the “chief grace officer” of our family. It’s the most accurate thing anyone has ever said about him. The message we got growing up was this:

You are not what you do. Your value is not tied to your accomplishments.

Yes, you have potential. Yes, you’re expected to do meaningful things. But your worth exists before you do any of them.

Most of us know this. We’d say it to a friend without hesitation. But we forget it constantly, especially when something hard happens at work. Especially when a job you cared about disappears. Especially when the market goes quiet and your inbox does too.

Even when a layoff is “just business,” or a venture you poured yourself into doesn’t work out, it lands in a deeply human place. It touches everything. Your routines, your confidence, your identity, your relationships, your sense of self. Before you let it become a referendum on your worth, your ambition, or your future, pause long enough to recognize what happened: you experienced a loss. And losses require adjustment.

When you’re rooted in the truth that your worth isn’t tied to your output, something shifts. That’s the gift of grace.

What I’ve Learned

Grace is one of the most underrated tools in your professional toolkit, and one of the hardest to actually use on yourself. Here’s what I’ve come to believe about it:

Grace is strategic recovery. It’s giving yourself enough space to recover your footing before demanding peak performance from yourself again. Not a detour. A foundation.

A container helped me more than sitting still. When hard emotions feel too big to just sit with, I find it easier to move through them than to face them head on. A yoga practice, a walk outside, an afternoon at a museum. Movement and beauty create space in a way that a blank wall simply doesn’t.

You are allowed to learn from this without being defined by it. One thing I’ve learned: your feelings are not your forecast. The version of you sitting here today, stunned, grieving, or quietly deflated, is not the final version that emerges from this chapter.

Something to Try

Grace is also something you practice. When you’re ready, here are a few places to start:

• Treat yourself like a friend. When the harsh inner voice starts up, ask: would I say this to my best friend? You wouldn’t. Say the kind thing instead.

• Celebrate what you’re proud of. The relationships, the wins, the impact, the things you built. Not to pitch yourself yet. Just to remember who you actually are.

• You don’t have to sprint into what’s next. Be honest about your current capacity and give yourself permission to not do everything at once. When you’re ready, reach out to people, reconnect with your strengths, and start exploring what’s next from a place of steadiness.

You probably already have a chief grace officer in your life, someone who has always seen your worth before your output. Someone who, when you call them in a low moment, reminds you of who you actually are.

Lean into those people right now rather than away from them. The people who love you are not keeping score of your career. Let them show you that.

And if you haven’t yet appointed someone to that role, consider this your nudge.

One year, in a performance review, I got feedback that didn’t sit quite right:

“You should have a stronger point of view.”

That surprised me. I felt like I did have a strong point of view — strategic, thoughtful, rooted in context. I shared it often. But I was being told it wasn’t coming through clearly enough, or with enough force.

So, I decided to pay attention first. Not to change anything yet, just to notice.

In our next few leadership team meetings, I paid attention to how I put ideas into the room. What I noticed was subtle but important: I would share my perspective but in a way that made it feel like just another idea. It wasn’t marked. It didn’t signal this is a thing to notice. I didn’t frame it as different or bold, even when it was.

I also noticed something else. Some of my colleagues, particularly the men, announced their ideas differently. “Here’s what I think we should do.” Said plainly, with conviction. No hedge, no softening, no invitation to dismiss it. That framing makes an idea feel more substantial before anyone’s even evaluated it.

That’s when the noticing became an experiment.

I started trying three things. First, I borrowed the move I'd been watching. Instead of easing into my perspective, I'd simply say it: "Here's what I think we should do." Or: "Here's my take." Direct, no preamble. Second, I dropped the hedging — no more "I think… maybe…" — and simply said the thing. Third, when I had a different angle, I named the contrast explicitly and directly. Not just announcing a point of view, but positioning it against what was already in the room: "I hear what's being proposed, I'd actually take this in a different direction." Or: "Building on what was just said, I see this differently." Anchoring my view against something specific gave it weight that a freestanding opinion sometimes doesn't carry, and it demonstrated exactly the kind of strength that was being asked for.

A few months later, I asked my manager how things were going. He said he was impressed by how much stronger and clearer my point of view had become.

Here’s the truth: my thinking hadn’t changed at all. Only the packaging had.

What I’ve Learned

This kind of feedback is incredibly common, especially for women. The environments that reward "decisiveness" and "executive presence" usually mean one thing: speak with conviction and plant a flag. Most of us were never taught to do that.

• Good ideas don’t announce themselves. They need a wrapper — something that tells the room this is worth tracking before anyone’s even evaluated it. Without that signal, the sharpest perspective in the space can land like background noise.

• Not all feedback is diagnosing the same problem. Sometimes the gap is a skill. Sometimes it’s a communication problem — how you’re packaging and signaling what you already know. Chasing skill development when the real issue is perception is a common and expensive mistake. Before you assume you need to get better at something, dive deeper to understand whether the problem is the thinking or the signal.

• The right move depends on the room you’re in. This path worked for me, but someone else might get the opposite feedback, that they need to listen more, collaborate more, soften the delivery. The goal isn’t to package your point of view the same way everywhere. It’s to read what the room actually rewards and decide deliberately how you want to show up in it.

Something to Try

Start by finding out how you're landing. Then experiment from there.

• Perception is data. Ask your manager, ask a peer, ask someone who’s in the room with you regularly for feedback. Each perspective catches something different. You can have the right answer and still lose the room. Knowing how your ideas actually land is how you get better at making them stick.

• Find a feedback buddy. Tell a trusted colleague what you’re working on and ask them to debrief with you after a meeting or two. Not a vague “how did I do?” — something specific: “Did my perspective land as distinct? Did it register?” A real-time witness catches things you can’t see from the inside.

• Ask for a signal check. After a few weeks of trying this, go back to your manager or a senior colleague and ask directly: “I’ve been working on how I position my point of view — have you noticed a difference?” The feedback loop closes the experiment. It also makes the effort visible, which matters.

This isn’t about becoming louder or more aggressive or performing a version of confidence you don’t feel. It’s about making sure the quality of your thinking actually reaches people. The room can’t act on what it doesn’t register. And ideas that go unmarked sometimes get lost entirely, no matter how good they are.

What would change in your next meeting if you stopped assuming the room heard you, and started making sure it did?

If this resonated, I’m working on some concepts for a group session or series for members on communication — and I’d love to know what challenges you’re actually facing. Hit reply and tell me.

La Toya Haynes is the founder and CEO of The Talent Practice, with over 27 years of experience in human resources, leadership coaching, and organizational development. She holds an MBA in Organizational Development and Executive Coaching and has helped startups and established enterprises build leadership pipelines and achieve strategic goals. In this conversation, we’re exploring why influence in meetings starts before you walk in the room, the simple ritual that changes how others perceive you, and what happens when you show up with intentional presence.

Most people think influence in meetings is about what you say. But the truth? It starts before you walk in the room. How you prepare your mindset, position yourself, and show up changes everything about how others perceive you—and whether your ideas land.

Cassie: We’ve all been in meetings where some people’s voices carry weight and others get overlooked, even when they’re saying smart things. What’s actually happening there?

La Toya: Influence in meetings isn’t just about what you say—it’s about how you show up.

Many leaders think influence is earned during the meeting, but the truth is, it starts before you walk in the room.

By intentionally preparing your mindset, reviewing the agenda so that you can position yourself and your ideas, and managing your signals, you change how others perceive you—and that changes the meeting dynamic.

It works because people respond to confidence, clarity, and presence. If you show up as composed and prepared, your ideas carry weight, even before you speak.

Cassie: How do you prepare to show up with that kind of presence? What’s the practice?

La Toya: I teach a simple ritual I call “The Pre-Meeting Power Move.” It’s comprised of three steps:

1. Define your objective—know exactly what outcome you want and the points that matter most based on the meeting agenda.

2. Visualize your presence—imagine entering the room (or logging into the virtual meeting), being calm, confident, and engaged. See your posture, tone, and energy.

3. Anchor yourself with a statement—have a one-liner or question ready that positions you as thoughtful and strategic. It could be as simple as, “I’d love to hear your perspective on...” or “Here’s what I see as the best solution...”

This primes others to listen and creates space for your influence.

Cassie: What changes for people when they start doing this consistently?

La Toya: Leaders who practice this report being heard, receiving positive feedback on their contributions during meetings, and positioning themselves to shape outcomes. Their presence sets a tone that encourages collaboration while making their contributions stand out.

Over time, people start seeking their input before meetings even begin.

Cassie: Thanks, La Toya, for the reminder that influence isn’t just what we say—it’s how we show up.

Want more career insights from La Toya? Follow her on LinkedIn or go directly to The Talent Practice website.

My former boss Rob used to offer this simple but sharp distinction for how to think about your impact at work:

“Are you a vitamin, or a painkiller?”

A vitamin is good for you — helpful, important even — but not essential in the moment. A painkiller solves a clear, urgent problem. It’s needed now.

The first time I heard this, I had floated an idea I thought could really help the company — creative, forward-looking, a bit shiny. Rob listened, then offered the analogy.

“That’s a vitamin,” he said.

Sharp. And exactly right. The idea might’ve been valuable, but it wasn’t solving the most pressing problem in front of the team.

That distinction has never left me. When you want to be trusted with big, strategic work, when you want to be seen as essential, you have to anchor what you do in the pain that needs solving right now.

What I’ve Learned

The framework is simple, but applying it changed how I think about showing up at work. A few things I keep coming back to:

The people who thrive are the ones solving real problems. As a leader, the people I valued most weren’t the ones with the most interesting ideas. They were the ones who saw what was broken or urgent and moved toward it. That’s who gets remembered when decisions about who stays, who gets promoted, and who gets the hard assignments are made.

You can reframe your value at any time. It doesn’t require a new role or a new title. It requires a different lens on the work you’re already doing and the willingness to move toward the problem instead of waiting to be pointed at it.

You don’t need permission. Leadership doesn’t start when someone gives it to you. It starts the moment you choose to lead. The people who break through demonstrate leadership before they’re asked. That’s exactly how organizations decide who to trust with more. I wrote about exactly how to do this, including three questions to ask yourself, in this piece.

Something to Try

Knowing you should solve pain is one thing. Finding it is another. Here’s where to start:

• Audit your current contributions. Look at what you’re spending the most time on. For each item, ask honestly: Is this a vitamin or a painkiller? Is this solving something urgent, or is it good work that someone could live without right now?

• Ask your boss what keeps them up at night. That one question tells you more about where to focus your energy than any job description ever will. Think about what your company has named as its top priorities. These are the type of areas where you want to be doing your best work.

• Find the pain nobody is rushing toward. Look for the problems that have been sitting unresolved, the projects nobody’s claimed, the fires that keep reigniting. Those are often where you can create the most visible impact — and where people will remember that you showed up.

• Reframe how you pitch your ideas. Before you bring something forward, lead with the problem it solves and why it matters now, not why it’s interesting. That shift alone changes how your ideas land.

We’re not in a moment where you get credit for potential. Companies are cutting, consolidating, and getting ruthless about who they actually need. You want to be indispensable — now.

Be the painkiller, not the vitamin.

Paid members: Reminder that I had shared a related free toolkit to help you identify where you can show leadership through initiative. Get all 10 leadership behaviors at a glance, 5 reflection prompts to spot your best opportunities, an AI brainstorming guide to design concrete initiatives, and a reminder about leading with the right intention. Access here:

Read more

Annie Tsai is the Chief Operating Officer of Interact, Early-Stage Investor & Advisor, Author & Columnist, and Community Builder behind “The Business Side of AI” newsletter. In this conversation, we’re talking about the most powerful AI feature most people are skipping, and why starting with “doing” instead of “thinking” costs you more than you realize.

The difference between AI that makes you faster and AI that makes you better comes down to one step most people skip entirely: planning.

Cassie: You mentioned you spent International Women’s Day volunteering with first-time builders using AI tools. What did you notice?

Annie: The same thing kept happening. Someone would show me what they were working on, and they had started building without a clear problem statement. Sometimes they’d gotten so deep into one feature that they’d lost the thread of what the thing was even supposed to do.

Every single time, I asked: “Did you go into plan mode first?”

And every single time, I got uncertainty. Plan mode had never come up. They simply hadn’t been made aware this was an option.

I left wondering: if 150 motivated builders in one room had never heard of plan mode, how many millions are opening these tools every day and going straight to “doing” because no one told them there was another way to start?

Cassie: Explain plan mode and why it matters.

Annie: Plan mode is a real capability in most major AI tools, and most people have never used it.

In Lovable, there’s a “Plan” button. Click it before your first message, and instead of immediately generating an app, it asks clarifying questions about your vision, constraints, tradeoffs. It helps you explore approaches before anything is built.

In Cursor, you hit Shift + Tab to trigger it. In Claude and ChatGPT, there’s no button—you have to prompt your way into it. And that’s the problem, because most people don’t know to do it.

Cassie: This feels so foundational—something product managers know really well but most people skip entirely.

Annie: Exactly. The single most important lesson I keep relearning: the most expensive mistake you can make is solving the wrong problem efficiently.

In product, we call this being solution-focused versus problem-obsessed. Solution-focused is when you start building toward a feature. Problem-obsessed is when you slow down to ask—what problem am I solving, for whom, and how will I know when I’ve solved it?

Teams that skip this build things that are technically impressive and functionally off.

Teams that do this well ship faster, with less rework, and end up with products people actually use.

AI tools only accelerate this dynamic. If you’re problem-obsessed before you prompt, outputs are dramatically better. If you’re solution-focused, you generate your way into the wrong thing at unprecedented speed.

Cassie: For someone without a product management background, how do you actually do this?

Annie: Before I build anything meaningful with AI, I write a rough PRD—a product requirements document. It’s more a thinking document than a handoff doc.

I think through: what problem am I solving, who is it for, what does success look like, what are the constraints?

I work through that with my AI as a thought partner, not a builder. By the time I’m done, I have a brief I can execute against.

Every output downstream is better for it.

Cassie: What if your tool doesn’t have a “plan mode” button?

Annie: Here are prompts that shift the mode:

“Before we build anything, I want to make sure I’m focusing on the right problem. Ask me questions until you can summarize my actual goal, who it’s for, and what success looks like.”

“What assumptions am I making that are most likely to be wrong?”

“Help me write a one-page brief for this before we start. What do you need to know from me?”

“What am I probably not thinking about? What are the most common failure modes for something like this?”

Every one of these asks your AI to help you think before you ask it to produce. That’s the whole move.

Cassie: For someone who wants to start using AI this way, what’s one thing they could do this week?

Annie: Before you ask AI to write, build, or generate anything, spend fifteen minutes in planning mode.

If you’re building something: “I want to build [thing]. Before we write any code, help me work through the problem. Who has this problem? What have they tried? What does a good solution need to do?”

If you’re making a decision: “I’m trying to decide [decision]. Help me map the assumptions I’m making and identify the ones most likely to be wrong.”

If you’re creating content: “I need to write [piece]. Before you draft anything, help me get clear on the one thing I want the reader to feel or do.”

The planning conversation becomes the brief, the brief becomes the prompt, and the output much more closely meets your expectations.

Plan first, build second. Everything downstream gets better.

Cassie: Thanks, Annie. The most expensive mistake you can make is solving the wrong problem efficiently—and AI will help you do exactly that unless you slow down first.

Want more from Annie on using AI strategically? Subscribe to The Business Side of AI for practical insights that actually work in the real world.

The Kentucky Derby is a whole thing in our house—homemade hats, a full menu, all of it.

But this year, something else happened.

When Golden Tempo came from dead last to win at 23-1, I was already losing my mind. And then I saw Cherie DeVaux in the winner’s circle, the first woman to train a Kentucky Derby winner in 152 years, and I felt something shift.

But the moment that really got me was the pre-race interview. Donna Brothers, a decorated former jockey whose mother was among the first women ever licensed to ride, asked Cherie DeVaux what it would mean if she made history that day.

DeVaux said she couldn’t even conceptualize it yet, and that if it happened, she’d let her know.

And then she turned it back to Brothers. Noted that she had been one of the first women jockeys to win a Triple Crown race. And said, simply: women like you are what made it easy for me.

Two women, on one of the biggest stages in sports, making the path visible in real time.

There is nothing like watching someone do the thing. Not reading about it. Not being told it’s possible. Watching it.

Seeing a real person, in real time, do something—and suddenly it’s not theoretical anymore. It’s available.

Like a path you didn’t know existed just got cleared.

And it made me realize, I’ve had versions of that moment my entire career.

I remember the first woman I knew who negotiated a part-time schedule after maternity leave. I didn’t even know that was an option. After that, I did.

I remember the first leader who said we wouldn’t schedule group meetings during carpool drop-off. She didn’t justify it. She just said it.

I remember the first peer who was genuinely tough, sharp and direct with high standards, and also warm, smiling, deeply human. She showed me you didn’t have to pick.

None of them had any idea what they were doing for me.

That’s the thing about going first. It doesn’t just change outcomes, it expands what other people believe is possible for themselves.

Who did that for you? Who’s the woman you watched do something, big or small, that quietly gave you permission?

And then the harder question: Who’s watching you right now and doesn’t know it yet?

Show them it can be done.

Emily Parkhurst is the founder of Formidable, a media and membership company dedicated to getting more women’s voices into the press and onto stages. A former journalist with nearly 20 years in newsrooms—including as Publisher and President of the Puget Sound Business Journal—Emily saw firsthand how underrepresented women are as expert sources. She founded Formidable to change that. In this conversation, we’re talking about why women struggle to position themselves as experts, and how to actually build relationships with journalists that open doors.

A few weeks ago, I published a conversation with Stephiney Foley about building a personal brand without feeling like a self-promoter. The feedback I heard most often: “This is great, but I’m not ready.”

That’s exactly why this conversation with Emily matters. Because “not ready” is the thing holding women back from being visible, from being heard, and from building the influence we deserve.

Cassie: Let’s start with Formidable. You founded it because you saw how underrepresented women are in media coverage. What were you seeing in newsrooms that made you realize this needed to change?

Emily: The vast majority of media coverage has been and continues to be written through a male lens. As a result, readership often skews male, as do media leadership teams. This became a self-fulfilling prophecy that traditional media companies have struggled to reverse. Women’s issues were often relegated to lifestyle sections rather than being integrated into comprehensive news coverage.

As a journalist, I spent years actively trying to diversify my sources. I would call people, reach out, search for women experts. And what I kept finding was that women were waiting to be asked. And even when you asked, they’d often decline to speak to me. They were waiting to be “ready.”

Reporters want diverse sources. They need them. But if you’re not visible, if you’re not putting yourself out there, they can’t find you. And that’s a problem we can actually fix.

Cassie: You’ve said that one of the key things holding women back from being heard more is being comfortable telling our story and positioning ourselves as experts. Why do you think women struggle with this more than men?

Emily: Women are constantly trying to check all the boxes before they feel qualified to speak up. We think we need one more certification, one more year of experience, one more credential before we’re “ready” to be an expert.

Men don’t do that. They see an opportunity and they take it. They recommend each other based on potential, not just proven track record.

And here’s the thing: journalists don’t need you to be the world’s foremost expert on a topic. They need you to have a perspective, to be able to speak intelligently about something in real time, and to be responsive when they’re on deadline.

If you have three things you can talk about for 10 minutes with zero preparation, you’re an expert. You don’t need permission. You don’t need to wait until you feel “ready.” You just need to start.

Cassie: For women who want to get more visible but feel uncomfortable with self-promotion, what’s the most important mindset shift they need to make?

Emily: Stop thinking about it as self-promotion. Think about it as service.

Journalists are people. They’re overwhelmed. They’re on tight deadlines. They’re looking for good sources who can help them tell important stories. If you have expertise that can help them do their job better, you’re not bothering them by reaching out—you’re helping them.

The other shift is understanding that visibility isn’t about being loud or performative. It’s about being useful. It’s about building relationships before you need something. It’s about treating journalists like human beings, not just people who can give you coverage.

Follow journalists on social media. Engage with their work. Comment on their stories. Send them an email that says, “Hey, I really loved your piece on X. Thanks for covering this.” You’ll make their day. And when you do eventually reach out with a pitch or an idea, they’ll actually remember you.

Cassie: And practically speaking—if someone reading this wants to start building relationships with journalists in their industry, what’s one thing they could do this week?

Emily: Pick three journalists who cover your industry or your area of expertise. Follow them on LinkedIn and other social channels. Read their recent work. Then send each of them a short, genuine email that says something like:

“Hi [Name], I’ve been following your coverage of [topic] and really appreciated your recent piece on [specific story]. I work in this space and would love to be a resource for you if you’re ever looking for sources or perspectives on [your area of expertise]. No pitch, just wanted to introduce myself.”

That’s it. Don’t ask for anything. Don’t pitch yourself. Just introduce yourself as someone who appreciates their work and is willing to be helpful.

Most people never do this. And the ones who do? They’re the ones journalists remember when they need an expert on deadline.

Cassie: This is exactly what I mean when I talk about influence without losing yourself. Getting visible isn’t about being loud or self-promotional. It’s about recognizing that your expertise has value—and that staying quiet doesn’t serve anyone.

Emily’s right: journalists are actively looking for women experts. They want to diversify their sources. But if you’re waiting to be ‘ready’ or waiting for permission, you’re making their job harder and yours invisible.

Want to learn more? Formidable helps women build media strategies, develop their personal brands, and get their voices heard. I highly recommend getting it in your inbox. Learn more and subscribe here!

The Prison Scene Every Leader Should Study

I was new to the team and hadn’t even had a chance to fully introduce myself before someone talked over me during my first real contribution to the group. They cut me off and dismissed what I was saying, claiming it wasn’t relevant, without even knowing where I was going.

I didn’t know yet if this was personal or just typical behavior. But I did know one thing: if I let it slide, I’d be signaling that it was okay to treat me that way. That I was someone who could be interrupted. Dismissed. Sidelined.

So, I interrupted back. Calmly but clearly, I said, “You have no idea what I was going to say, and either way, I don’t appreciate being cut off like that.”

There was a pause. Then we moved on.

Later, he apologized. Eventually, we became great working partners. But that moment mattered. It wasn’t about being combative, it was about establishing who I was in that room.

We’ve all seen the movie: the protagonist ends up in prison. On day one, a bully steals their roll or knocks their tray to the ground. It’s a test. A signal. A power move designed to establish the pecking order.

And the hero’s response? They don’t smile politely or try to de-escalate. They flip the tray or throw the first punch. They make it crystal clear: you picked the wrong person.

Primatologist Jane Goodall observed that animals test newcomers more aggressively on first contact. I’ve seen the same dynamic play out on a lot of the male-dominated leadership team I’ve ever joined — someone will knock your metaphorical tray, interrupt you, dismiss your idea, or undermine your expertise, especially when you’re new.

The good news? This usually happens in your first few interactions, which means you have multiple chances to establish your boundaries. You don’t need to get it perfect on day one, but recognizing these early moments for what they are gives you the power to respond intentionally.

Here’s what I’ve told tens of women in this situation: your response to that first test doesn’t just handle one interaction. It establishes the character you’ll play in every future interaction with that person — and often with everyone who witnessed it.

What I’ve Learned

Your early responses in any new environment set the tone for everything that follows.

Most of the time, this isn’t about people being mean or cruel. It’s about people feeling threatened about their own position and unconsciously testing to see where you fit in the existing hierarchy. The motivation isn’t malicious — it’s often defensive or territorial.

This behavior doesn’t always happen in front of an audience either. Sometimes it’s a one-on-one conversation, a side comment, or a seemingly innocent question that feels like it’s probing your boundaries. But whether public or private, your response matters.

The cost of being “too nice” in these moments is enormous. You don’t just lose one interaction — you lose positioning, credibility, and future opportunities to be heard.

Something to Try

When you find yourself in a movie prison scene moment, try this:

• Recognize the tray-knocking moment. It usually happens early and feels like a test of your boundaries. Someone interrupts you, takes credit for your idea, makes a condescending comment, or dismisses your input without hearing you out. Trust your gut when something feels like a power play — it usually is, even if the person isn’t consciously trying to undermine you.

• Go bigger than feels comfortable. Your instinct might be to smooth things over or let it slide. Don’t. Respond with slightly more force than the situation seems to warrant. In a public setting, call it out directly: “I wasn’t finished speaking.” In a private conversation, be equally direct but perhaps more explanatory: “I need you to let me finish my thoughts before jumping in.” That discomfort you feel? It’s usually the sign you’re doing it right.

• Focus on what happened, not who they are. “I don’t appreciate being cut off” lands differently than “you’re being rude” — and it keeps you on the right side of professional without softening the message.

• Don’t apologize for proportional responses. If your tray-flip matched the offense, don’t walk it back later. That undermines everything you just established and signals that you’re uncomfortable with your own boundaries.

These moments don’t come with a warning. But they do come. And how you show up in that first one is how you’ll be seen in every one that follows.