I'VE GOT TO POWER THROUGH THIS.
I lived in that mindset, the one where you have to try, work, strive, prove, and figure it all out alone, for years. In our society, it's upheld as proof that we are smart, capable, and independent. And yet it's isolating, it's draining, and for women, it can even wreak havoc on our bodies. It did for me.
The reality is, humans are social creatures, and we do our best when we are connected in a web of relationships that support us.
Are you personally feeling lonely, disconnected, and unknown, dragging through your days to get to the weekend? Do you feel like your team’s potential is being held back by inauthentic, superficial relationships that can’t “go there” with uncomfortable conversations?
It’s been said that to be known and not loved is our greatest fear.
But if you let that fear rule and don’t authentically connect with people, you’re likely to feel lonely. And being lonely has dramatically negative side effects - it disturbs your sleep, raises your blood pressure and levels of perceived stress, and is a major precipitant of depression.
Don’t make the mistake of blowing this off as unimportant: Developing authentic relationships with supportive friends and colleagues draws out our best selves and helps us do our best work.
I KNOW.
I'M SARA BLANCHARD, AND I HID FOR YEARS.
It kicked off when I was managing editor of a college magazine. We were looking for a new editor-in-chief, and I put my hat in the ring - and then, a week later, got accidentally cc:ed on a group email that said something along the lines of, “We can’t let Sara be editor-in-chief; she regularly comes up with silly ideas…”
Ouch. I thought we all got along well and respected each other.
After that backstabbing episode, I let my previously shiny, happy voice be quieted - because who on earth wants to be known as someone who comes up with silly ideas? For years, I felt like I had to hedge my opinions and experiences, and dampen my enthusiasm and emotions and observations. While I had a huge network of acquaintances, in hindsight, I had one authentic girlfriend who I kept a close relationship with from that time. The rest, I kept at arms distance.
Sure, hiding my voice kept me safe from being exposed again,
but it also kept me from letting my true talents and visions shine.
I have put in years of work - training as a life coach, teaching positive psychology at Harvard, constantly inquiring about what it takes to help women thrive - to discover what it takes to build a trusted community that supports an authentic self.
The work has been pressure-tested, carrying me through challenging periods:
when I lost my father in my 20s;
when I switched careers - leaving corporate America to pursue my own coaching path, leaving that same path to raise two children, re-entering the workforce as a mother in a new way I outlined in my book Flex Mom;
re-building authentic communities multiple times as we moved around the world, from Tokyo to Hong Kong to New York to Arizona to Colorado.
At first, I didn’t understand why - as my children became school-aged and I found myself asking an old friend to bring her GRAMMY-nominated children’s hip-hop group to tour through my city so I could bring critical conversations about race to the forefront - I felt my purpose shift from coaching women to focusing on anti-racism.
But the more I have been examining and uncovering about myself, I realize that my own history as the daughter of a White father and a Japanese immigrant mother has influenced my understanding of identity and belonging in a fundamental way.
And I feel deeply that this work is intertwined. The more we know about ourselves, our biases, our strengths, and purpose, and our history, the more we can extend that same grace of humanity to others.
Especially to those who look “different” than us.
As a listener, seeker, writer, and intuitive, I want to share all that I’ve learned along the way to help women feel known, to themselves and others - and feel that they not only can play a role in building a more equitable world, but that they feel compelled to do what they can to make change in their own spheres of influence.