The Vulnerability of Building While Broken
Corporate Exit Diaries - Week 3
September 12, 2025
This week I wrote about smoking, workspace anxiety, and the terror of failing as a parent. Also, my timer went off at the exact moment I finished writing "You my friend, are more than enough and you always have been."
Sometimes the universe has a sense of humor about timing.
When Your Workspace Becomes a Metaphor
Monday's post was supposed to be about manuscript progress. Instead, it became about finally clearing out that spare bedroom upstairs and making it mine - not the Pinterest version of what a writer's office should look like, but something that actually feels like me.
The engagement was solid, but what hit me wasn't the metrics. It was realizing how much environment matters for the work you want to be doing versus the work you have to be doing. Same laptop, same skills, but something about having a room designed for my actual writing instead of client deliverables? The momentum feels different.
My husband and I had been sharing workspace for too long, and it wasn't working. Getting that bookshelf delivered (yes, I posted about furniture assembly like it was a life achievement) felt like I was getting ready for who I'm becoming, not just organizing who I am.
Turns out transitioning isn't just about changing what you do. Maybe it's about building a place that matches where you're headed.
The Chapter That Hurt to Write
Wednesday brought Chapter 17 - "Not Enoughness" - and holy hell, this one was brutal to put on paper.
I wrote about hiding smoking from my daughter for years. About feeling like a shitty parent when she struggled. About wearing busyness like a badge of honor in my medical sales days, bragging about working 12-hour days like it made me superior instead of just tired.
The real kicker? Writing about how cancer forced me to slow down because I was too stubborn to do it voluntarily. Four surgeries in a year will teach you about surrender whether you want to learn or not.
Here's what I'm discovering about vulnerability in business content: people don't need more advice about "overcoming limiting beliefs." They need permission to admit they're terrified of failing at the things that matter most. As a mom. As a business owner. As a human trying to build something meaningful while life happens around them.
The core fear underneath all the "not enough" bullshit? I'm afraid I'll fail. At everything. That's it. That's the whole thing.
But admitting that on paper - and then posting about it on LinkedIn with an actual photo of me and my daughter instead of some stock image about "authentic business building" - that felt like jumping off a cliff.
The response has been... intense. People sharing their own smoking guilt, their own parenting fears, their own workaholic badge-wearing stories. Turns out when you stop trying to have it all figured out, people connect with the mess.
Friday's Reflection: The Space Between
Friday was supposed to be reflection day, but I ended up writing about physical space creating mental space. How clearing out that room and waiting for the bookshelf to arrive felt like clearing space for who I'm becoming.
The post ended with asking people to share their own workspace photos - not the perfect Instagram version, but the real one. The response was exactly what I hoped for: actual humans showing actual spaces where they're building actual things.
No one posted a pristine white desk with perfectly arranged succulents. Everyone shared the beautiful mess of work in progress.
What's Actually Happening Here
Three weeks into this Corporate Exit Diaries experiment, I'm learning something uncomfortable about building a business around authenticity: it requires being authentic even when it's inconvenient.
This week's content - workspace anxiety, parenting guilt, the fear of failing - wasn't strategic. It was just what was actually happening in my life and my manuscript. The engagement metrics are secondary to the fact that I'm finally writing content that feels like me instead of what I think LinkedIn wants to see.
The people responding aren't looking for business tips disguised as personal stories. They're looking for permission to be human while they're building something that matters.
That's the service, apparently. Not having it figured out, but being willing to document the figuring-it-out process in real time.
The Uncomfortable Truth About Transitions
Here's what nobody tells you about transitioning from profitable work to passionate work: the hardest part isn't leaving the money. It's admitting that you've been building the wrong thing well instead of building the right thing messily.
I can create LinkedIn content for medical companies in my sleep. It pays well, it's easy, and it requires zero vulnerability. But it also requires zero of who I actually am.
Writing about smoking guilt and parenting fears and the terror of failing? That's terrifying. But it's also the only work that feels worth doing.
Next Week's Reality
Monday brings another manuscript progress post. I'll share what came out of that Chapter 17 writing session and probably admit something else I'd rather keep private.
Wednesday will be business insights pulled from whatever I discovered while writing about vulnerability and failure.
Friday will be reflection on whatever comes up between now and then.
No grand strategy. No content calendar mapped out three months in advance. Just showing up and telling the truth about what it looks like to rebuild something from scratch while you're still figuring out what you're rebuilding into.
The boring infrastructure work continues. The foundation before the pretty stuff. The transformer boxes before the 19-foot ceilings.
But at least now I have a room that feels like mine to do it in.
This is part of my Corporate Exit Diaries - real-time documentation of finishing my book and transitioning from profitable work to passionate work. No roadmaps, no guarantees, just honest progress.