The Confession Booth Opens
Corporate Exit Diaries – October 3, 2025
This week, 202 people confessed their professional filter failures in my LinkedIn comments. A surgeon's office went silent when I told him he "navigated a colon like a motherfucker." Turns out I'm not the only one whose Harvard voice occasionally malfunctions.
Sometimes the stories that make you cringe are exactly what break through the noise.
When the Filter Finally Breaks
Monday's post about Chapter 23 hit different. Not because the content was revolutionary - telling embarrassing work stories isn't exactly groundbreaking strategy. But 119K impressions and 202 comments later, the pattern became obvious: everyone is exhausted from code-switching.
We toggle between versions of ourselves so constantly we've forgotten which one is real. Harvard customer service voice for the C-suite. Unhinged authenticity with work friends. Buttoned-up professionalism on LinkedIn. The performance is relentless.
The comments became a safe space. John shared his "tomorrow ze vorld" disaster at a Berlin publishing conference. Multiple ortho reps confirmed that profanity is just Tuesday morning in their ORs. Kat's observation about "toggling until the MF'ers leak out" resonated so hard it got 37K impressions on its own.
The Wednesday Reality Check
Wednesday's follow-up post didn't go viral (1K impressions vs Monday's 119K), but it didn't need to. It served the people still processing what we'd started - the realization that performing professionalism and actually being professional are two different things.
The algorithm rewards fresh stories, not meta-commentary about previous stories. Lesson learned. But the warm audience needed the continuation, so the drop in reach didn't matter.
Friday's Pivot
By Friday, I needed to shift gears. Instead of dissecting the confession booth further, I reflected on launching points - how every career phase prepares you for what's next even when you can't see the connection yet.
Sterile processing led to medical sales. Medical sales funded the business. The business is funding whatever comes after I stop making excuses and actually build what scares me.
The response was quieter but steadier. Not every post needs to be viral. Some just need to land with the right people at the right time.
What This Week Reinforced
Vulnerability isn't a content strategy. It's what happens when you stop curating and just show up - filter fails and all. The algorithm might reward it with impressions sometimes, but the real payoff is permission. Permission for others to stop pretending. Permission for yourself to be honest about the cage you built.
Five weeks of documenting this manuscript process, and the pattern holds: raw truth outperforms polished advice every single time. People don't need another list of entrepreneurial tips. They need to see someone figure it out in real time, complete with verbal disasters and self-doubt spirals.
The Uncomfortable Truth
This week I also wrote Chapter 27 - admitting I built a prettier cage. That I left corporate for freedom but stayed in the same industry, doing work I'm competent at but not called to. That my healthcare business is the launching point, not the destination.
That chapter won't show up on LinkedIn anytime soon. It's too honest for my client base to see before the book context exists. But writing it forced me to stop lying to myself about why I'm still here.
What's Next
Chapter 28 is drafted. The manuscript is nearly complete. Not because I have all the answers, but because I finally stopped using "not ready" as permission to avoid finishing.
The website is live. The newsletter launched. The infrastructure work continues - unsexy but necessary.
No roadmaps. No guarantees. Just the ongoing documentation of becoming whatever comes after staying comfortable.
This is part of my Corporate Exit Diaries - real-time documentation of finishing my book and transitioning from profitable work to purposeful work. Subscribe at corporateish.io for deeper dives.
