I spent the weekend in Montana with my girlfriend and a few friends. This corner of the world is just stunning when there isn’t smoke filling the air. Unfortunately, this is fire season. The air quality was some of the worst I’ve seen in 3 years of traveling. So on the final day of the trip when the air quality hit peak yuck, we decided to do a quick mastermind. 

If you’ve never been part of a mastermind, I definitely recommend it - especially for entrepreneurs. In this particular style, each person brings a challenge or question to the table and can ask for the type of feedback they want. A timer is set. Makes me wish all my problems could be solved with my friends and a 20 minute timer.  

One of my takeaways from the conversation is that it’s ok to ask others for help - even if it’s something as small as sharing or promoting things that are important to me. This feels obvious, but it is hard. I’ve always hesitated to ask for help. Hell, I can barely ask a stranger to help hold the door open when my arms are full. You want me to ask people I know to share something for my gain? I wouldn’t dare. 

[I know there are a few of you thinking I WANT TO HELP! Share my upcoming workshop!]

I tried it anyway. Each day this week, I took some time to ask people I know to share my upcoming workshop. Most folks happily obliged. Out of the blue, one asked me a question I wasn’t expecting. “So is this webinar going to be all about gender? I’m asking for obvious reasons.” The obvious reason being I’m trans and nonbinary. Clearly that’s all I can speak about (note sarcasm). 

Admittedly, that sarcasm comes from a place of hurt. I’ve spent the last 10 years writing about every recruiting trend under the sun, organizing webinars, and creating free resources. Very few of those projects ever had to do with being trans, learning pronouns, or talking about gender. Yet, because I have decided to allow people to see me and know my story? There are folks who see me as a “DEI hire.” 

All week it left me wondering if vulnerability is worth it. Is it worth my time to write these letters and try to get folks to see things in a new way? Not even an hour after I fell into that slump, a reminder came via a phone call with a stranger.

“Last week, I fell into a Kat Kibben reading spree,” they said with a laugh. Then, they picked up my book from their desk (buy a copy here). It was filled with notes and tags as if they were reading a textbook they’d be tested on later. They opened to page 27 and read me a line about goals and fear. “I didn’t know I was getting therapy for this cheap! I really needed this.” Vulnerability for the win. 

In business, vulnerability becomes this second guessing game. “Am I hurting my chances of success by standing out?” I guess I’ll never know. 

Letting people see who I am - in the good and bad - has helped me understand that I don’t have to be palatable to everyone. Not everyone is going to be my friend. Not everyone will accept me or want to read what I create. They can choose not to know me. 

But for the people who do choose to know more, my vulnerability can change how they walk this life. Whether it’s someone leaving a pronoun session with a new understanding of how it feels to be misgendered or a recruiter who wants to be better to candidates, I have changed them. 

If you’re an entrepreneur asking the same question - here’s what I’ll tell you. If you’re going to choose palatability over vulnerability, quit. Go get a job. Make someone else rich. Hiding who you are on top of the pure exhaustion that comes with entrepreneurship is simply too much. You won’t just harm your chances of success, you’ll harm yourself if you choose not to be a little vulnerable.