Not Your Kind of Brave

There’s this thing I do before any big meeting: I say a silent prayer that I’ll be the best version of myself. Not more, not less. Just me. This isn’t some preachy religious thing. It’s a small reminder that I don’t need to impress any bigwigs or anyone else. Just be me. Awkward, sarcastic, passionate me.

I had one of those meetings last year and someone tried to give me some advice. You’re too formal, they said. Not creative enough. We wish you’d spoken more quietly; we wish you’d been brave enough to be yourself.

I’ve been mulling on this meeting for ages. I told my dad about this conversation and he snorted with laughter. My SO had some choice words; my mother had some soothing assurances. At the time, I just responded politely. Okay, that’s fine. Happy to connect. Appreciate your time. Great feedback.

Here’s the thing I wish I’d been able to say in that meeting: I’m not your creative or your brave. I’m not your formal or your quiet. I’m just not for you. And that’s okay.

There’s a tendency with creative people to get caught up in how Creative They Are. I see this in the startup world a lot. I saw it growing up in Southern California in the theater scene too. So many people trying to be different that they all sounded the same. Look how different I am. Look how unique. Dude, we’re all different. We’re not the Geth.

And just because you wear sneakers and have funny business cards doesn’t mean that you don’t still try to push people into your box. You’ve created a new kind of manufactured persona, and it’s just as fake as the corporate folks you love to demean. Startup isn’t cool just by itself. It’s not cool to ignore best practices or project timelines or pretend like winging it is always the best option.

Startup is cool because you’re able to move faster, get more done, and take the kind of risks that make more structured businesses leery. It’s cool because you learn fast and hopefully build something that scales bigger than you’d ever dream. It’s cool because of the personal investment. But none of that is unique to startups. And none of that exists without the twin guardrails of project management and brand identity. Being brave doesn’t mean being stupid.

I don’t really care about bravery in work; I care about results. If that means that my copy makes me laugh, that’s great. But that’s not my goal. Professionalism isn’t dead. And neither is creativity.

This is why I ask to be the best version of myself. Not the worker bee in the cubical, and not the cool marketer in the open office.

We all don’t have to be each other’s people. We just have to find our people. And sometimes we have to be brave enough to be our own people.