That phrase used to live rent-free in my vocabulary.
I apologized for asking smart questions.
I apologized for offering informed opinions.
I even apologized for showing up too boldly—too me.
But here’s the truth:
I wasn’t actually sorry.
I was afraid.
Afraid of rejection.
Afraid of stepping outside the “inner circle,” where you didn’t speak unless spoken to,
silence was loyalty, and honesty was a line not worth crossing.
I worked in a culture where answering questions honestly made people uncomfortable.
Where I was coached on my face—yes, my actual face.
(RBF was something I’d never been accused of—until then.)
Meanwhile, half the team wasn’t even on video, or worse, staring slack-jawed into space.
It was absurd.
It was exhausting.
It was infuriating.
And slowly… I started to shrink.
To smooth my edges.
To weigh the impact honesty would have on my career.
Until I no longer recognized the version of me sitting on those endless Zoom calls—
polished, polite, and painfully edited.
Not anymore.
I’m working on a promise to myself to be kind, honest, authentic, introspective and
continue learning without sacrificing myself.
This post is part of a conscious effort to reclaim my voice.
To speak up—even when it’s uncomfortable.
Especially when it’s uncomfortable.
To stop apologizing for being passionate, honest, or different.
Because here’s what I’ve learned:
The more I speak my truth, the more I find my people.
The ones who don’t flinch when I’m direct.
The ones who value trust over tiptoeing.
The ride-or-die teammates who want to build something real—with me, not some dulleddown version.
If you’ve ever felt muted in a toxic culture—told you were too much, too intense, too
something—here’s your reminder:
You’re not too much. You were just in the wrong room.
Here’s to finding the right ones.
To louder voices, real work, and unapologetic leadership.
And yes—building better teams, one messy, beautiful, top knot at a time.
I’m sorry but…
June 24, 2025
