Embracing Self Advocacy in 2025

I’ve never been one for New Year’s resolutions. Waiting for a specific date to commit to change never made sense to me. If you want to start working out, why not begin today instead of waiting for the magic of January 1st? But this year, I’m changing my tune. This year, I’m embracing resolutions—and here’s why: last year beat me up.

I went through what I can only describe as professional depression. I faced turbulent professional waters and carried the emotional weight of navigating them. As a natural pleaser, my instinct is to prioritize the needs of others—whether they’re my customers, my colleagues, or my employees. While this mindset has served me well in fostering trust and delivering for others, it’s also made it hard to prioritize myself. Last year, I pushed my own needs to the back burner, focusing instead on the wellness of “my people”—the customers who place their trust in me and my colleagues, many of whom have become like family after 17 years of working shoulder to shoulder.

But this year, I’m stepping into new territory. One of my resolutions is to be publicly vulnerable, starting here on LinkedIn. Too often, this platform is filled with polished “interview voices” and highlight reels from our work lives. And I’ll be the first to admit that one of the people speaking in their “interview voice” was me.

This year, I’m committing to continual self-improvement and a transparent look at the trials and tribulations of my journey. I want to pull back the curtain, not to expose anyone else, but to share my own story in the hope that it resonates with someone and helps them in their professional journey.

Here’s a truth about me: as a pleaser, advocating for others feels natural. Advocating for myself? That’s a different story. Without someone in your corner, the pleaser archetype often leads to being well-liked but underserved. This year, I’m wading into the uncomfortable waters of self-advocacy.

Just typing that last sentence made me want to dry heave. The people I love and trust have been telling me for years to advocate more strongly for myself. Last year, one of the CEOs who serves as a mentor said to me, “You are amazing in the way you connect with people, but stop being so deferential all the time. Show some swag!” I smiled, promised to try, then immediately filed that away in the “never do” file.

Self-promoters annoy me. People detailing their personal qualities and accomplishments make my eyes roll so far back in my head it makes me sleepy. I have zero idea how I’m going to navigate self-advocacy without creating self-loathing, but one of my principles is learning to be comfortable in uncomfortable situations. I'm jumping off the deep end to very uncomfortable waters.

Another truth: I care way too much about what people think of me. Not about the things that are true—I’m at peace with those. What distracts me are the things that aren’t true.

A few months ago, I received feedback that my increased activity on LinkedIn gave the impression that I was more interested in self-promotion than driving great outcomes for my clients and colleagues. That feedback hit me hard because it’s the opposite of why I started expressing myself publicly. I began writing here and speaking on panels because I was repeatedly asked to coach and mentor others. With a full work life and a commitment to family and friends, sharing publicly became a way to support others without sacrificing time with those I care about most.

But I internalized that feedback and made a bad decision: I stopped posting. I declined speaking engagements. I made my already small circle even smaller.

Then something incredible happened. People who had never commented or even hit the “like” button on my posts reached out to tell me how much my writing had helped and inspired them. They encouraged me to keep going. I realized I had made the mistake of listening to a loud minority instead of the silent majority.

This year, I’m committing to embracing the voices of those who find value in what I share and letting go of the fear of judgment. I will report on both successes and failures with the same enthusiasm, because every step—whether forward or backward—is part of the journey.

To those who reached out to me: thank you. Your words mean more than you know.

Here’s to a year of growth, vulnerability, and unapologetic authenticity. Let’s make 2025 a year of progress—together.