Embarrassingly On Brand

Heyy you,

Did you miss me?

I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, not because I missed you (I did) but because I keep wondering what you think of me.

When you first bumped into this newsletter. When you see a notification from me. I wonder if you thought it was embarrassing when I asked you to subscribe, because sometimes it feels like begging. When I share personal examples, do you think it’s TMI? Do you ever read something and think, “She really could’ve kept that to herself”?

Honestly, the thought alone makes me cringe. And trust me, I don’t do embarrassment well.
Something I did in 1500 BC can still keep me up at night.
I’ll be replaying the scene, rewriting it in my head, “maybe if I said this…” or “if I hadn’t done that…”

I have mastered the skill of avoiding embarrassment, I can read rooms in my sleep. Notice the slightest of shifts in people’s tones. I sometimes play out some conversations in my head prior. I review a picture possibly 50 times before posting, zooming in and out like a forensic analyst (explains why my Instagram looks the way it looks like).
Not because I’m vain, but because I’m careful.

Careful not to say something wrong, careful not to overstay my welcome, careful not to be seen as trying too much. Careful not to be embarrassed.

So embarrassment and Irene are not words you’ll easily find in one sentence but that has also meant that I passed on many chances to start new things, advocate for myself, get new opportunities or simply have fun because I was careful to not be seen trying.

I didn’t start because I didn’t want to fumble.
Didn’t share because I didn’t want to overshare.
Didn’t speak because I didn’t want to sound cringe.

But I’m discovering now, “embarrassment is the cost of entry”.

Into growth.
Into new opportunities, friendships, business ideas, love stories, bold prayers, open doors.
All of it.

The people who are doing the things we admire? They weren’t less embarrassing when they started, they were just more willing.
More willing to be misunderstood. More willing to be seen trying. More willing to fail, get back up, and keep going. And it’s okay.

So now I’m willing to try and to be seen trying. Willing to send a newsletter and not have it be perfect. Willing to post a video yapping about something I’m passionate even if I don’t sound like an industry expert.
Willing to say: hey, if you haven’t subscribed, would you?

Willing to take the risk, because staying small is too high a price to pay.

So what if we made a pact, you and I, that we’ll laugh at the embarrassing together? That we’ll stop treating every “cringe” moment like the worst thing to ever happen in the history of humanity. Because it’s okay to be a little silly, to be less than perfect to be seen figuring it out and growing through it.

I mean… imagine if Thomas Edison quit after the first try because he was too embarrassed to fail out loud?
We’d still be in the dark. Literally.
So maybe it’s not so bad to show up before you’ve figured it all out. To risk looking awkward on your way to becoming. Because what’s the alternative? Hiding? Shrinking? Missing out? Not if I can help it.

With Love, Irene