Thoughtful reflections for women navigating leadership, identity, and becoming. Every month, I share honest stories, practical tools, and gentle encouragement to help you lead with truth and rise with purpose.
Being the Only One Was Never the Assignment
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Hi Reader, If you have ever been the only one in the room, you know what I mean before I say it. The only woman. The only Black person. The only one who grew up the way you grew up. The only one carrying something the rest of the room does not see. There is a particular kind of invisible work that comes with being the only one. It is not always loud. It does not always announce itself. But it shapes everything. How carefully you choose your words. How much you prepare before walking in. How much energy you spend reading the room before you contribute to it. How often you wonder if the discomfort you are sensing is the room's or your own. Many of us have carried this for so long that it has stopped feeling like weight at all. It has started feeling like the job. This month, I have been thinking about that. About the women I coach who tell me they are tired in ways that sleep does not fix. About the conversations that started with strategy and ended with someone saying, for the first time, "I've been carrying more than my role ever asked me to." And about something I have come to believe with increasing clarity. Being the only one was never the assignment. The work was. Somewhere along the way, many of us became responsible for so much more than the work. Translating. Educating. Representing. Reassuring. Making other people comfortable with our presence in the room. This letter is an invitation to set some of that down. Not all at once. Not perfectly. Just honestly. This Month's ReflectionA line I wrote in my journal recently that I have not been able to shake: The cost of being the only one is not the room. It is everything you have been carrying inside it that no one asked you to carry, and no one offered to share. It shows up in countless ways. Sometimes it looks like translating. Sometimes it looks like absorbing. Sometimes it looks like deciding, over and over, which parts of yourself feel safe to bring into the room. Whatever form it takes, the question underneath is the same: A question to sit with this month: What have you been carrying that was never yours to carry alone? What I'm Sharing This MonthThis month, I wanted to share a few things I think you'll enjoy: • Published a new article in Women We Admire exploring executive presence. • Continued my blog series with a reflection on belonging and leadership. • Sent Draft 3 of Dear Daughter to my editor. • Celebrated one year of Legacy Rising. • Looking ahead to our July Legacy Circles conversation. A Resource for YouOne of the most direct ways the cost of being the only one shows up is in something the leadership world calls executive presence. For years, the conversation around executive presence has asked women to perform a version of themselves that the room will accept. Stand a certain way. Speak a certain way. Soften when expected. Sharpen when expected. Become someone the room is comfortable promoting. I have been pushing back on that for a long time. Quietly in coaching sessions. More publicly in the writing I have been doing this year. Last month, Women We Admire published a piece I wrote on this exact tension. "What I Wish More Women Knew About Executive Presence." The short version of what I argue is that executive presence is not something we put on for the room. It is something we uncover by becoming more congruent with who we already are. If you have ever wondered why the version of leadership you keep being told to aspire to feels slightly off, this piece is for you.
In ConversationThis month I also published a new piece on the Legacy Rising blog. Less about the strategic work of coaching and consulting, and more about the rooms where that work has happened. "I've Sat at Many Tables. Here's What I've Learned About Who Actually Belongs There." I wrote about the tables I have navigated over twenty-plus years. The agency table where I was the only Black person in the room. The leadership table at a global manufacturing company. The nonprofit CEO table. The board tables. The stages. And eventually, the table I built myself at Legacy Rising. I wrote about the difference between being invited and belonging. About what the hardest rooms taught me. About when leadership stops being about how to fit a room and starts being about what you are uniquely positioned to build. If you are sitting at a table right now and wondering whether you belong there, or whether the energy it takes to stay is one you would rather spend somewhere else, this piece was written for you.
A Personal NoteDraft 3 of Dear Daughter went back to my editor this month. Somewhere along the way, I realized something I wasn't expecting. I thought I was writing this book. But the truth is, I think this book is writing something in me, too. That has become one of the greatest gifts of this process. The CommunityEvery month inside Legacy Circles, we gather for a live conversation. Not a webinar. Not a class. A room of women asking honest questions together. This month's Monthly Live is next week, and the question we will be sitting with is one I have been carrying with me for a long time. Who do you become when you stop performing? If the themes of this letter are landing for you, the weight of being the only one, the cost of carrying what was never yours to hold alone, then I hope you'll join us. I think you'll find yourself in the conversation. Next Thursday at noon CT, we'll spend time together on Zoom. Honest questions. Real conversation. A room built for reflection instead of performance. Legacy Circles is free to join.
Free to join. A Gentle InvitationIf this letter resonated with you, a few small ways to stay connected: Share this newsletter with another woman who has been the only one in too many rooms.
Sit quietly for a few minutes with the reflection question above. There is no right answer. The honest one is the answer.
Join us for this month's Legacy Circles conversation.
And if this letter reminded you of something you have been carrying, I hope it also reminded you of something else. You have never lacked strength. The invitation isn't to become stronger. It's to stop believing you have to carry everything alone. And there's one last thing I want to share, a milestone I've been quietly celebrating. This month marks one year since Legacy Rising became Legacy Rising. As I've reflected on this first year, I've realized something. This is what Legacy Rising has always been about. Not teaching women to become stronger. But reminding us that we were never meant to become strong alone. Thank you for being part of this first year. Year two is already underway, and I'm so grateful you're here for what's ahead. More soon.
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Legacy Letters
Thoughtful reflections for women navigating leadership, identity, and becoming. Every month, I share honest stories, practical tools, and gentle encouragement to help you lead with truth and rise with purpose.
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