When Nobody's Clapping But Everyone's Watching

Here's what nobody told me: consistency isn't about every attempt landing. It's about being present enough, vulnerable enough, real enough that when someone's ready to pay attention, I'm still there.

Corporate Exit Diaries - October 17, 2025

This week felt like I wore my rigid Levi's when I should've worn the buttery soft yoga pants.

The jeans? I had to do the “shimmy shake” and thrust my hips in a way not appropriate for most to even get into them (IYKYK). They make my butt look fabulous at 8 AM, but by the end of the day, I feel like a stuffed sausage, wondering when I can unbutton that first button without anyone noticing. But simultaneously, the butt (one of the better attributes) gets all saggy.

The yoga pants? Cute as hell AND feel great to wear. Forgiving. Like a booty hug in the best way possible.

This week needed yoga pants. I wore the jeans.

New client projects. Teenager struggling. Husband traveling. Life is happening at full volume while I'm trying to build something new on the side.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, I started wondering: is anyone even paying attention to what I'm building? Or am I just working my ass off in the background while nobody notices?

Here's what I couldn't see while it was happening: people were watching. Quietly.

The Gap Between Noise and Growth

Big wins are loud. They feel like validation and recognition, people telling you "good job," visible proof you're making progress.

But real growth? That's quiet.

It's the person who's been watching what you do for weeks before they finally reach out. The connection who's too busy to respond to most things, but makes time to say your work matters. The opportunity that shows up because someone's been paying attention all along.

None of them announced themselves. None of them gave you a heads-up. They just watched. And when they were ready, they raised their hand.

I couldn't see them while it was happening. That's the hard part.

This week I was convinced I was spinning my wheels. Putting in effort but not seeing results. Doing work that felt misaligned just because I thought I should.

Then I discovered: people were connecting with what I was building. Signing up. Reaching out. Paying attention in ways I couldn't measure in the moment.

While I was convinced nobody cared, quiet growth was happening.

What I missed: The validation I could see (immediate feedback, visible wins) didn't measure the people actually paying attention. It measured performance, not connection.

The Performance Trap (Or: When I Stood Outside a Door Going "Marco?")

When something works, I try to recreate it.

I got recognition for one thing, so I kept doing more of that thing. Got traction in one area, so I doubled down even when it didn't feel aligned anymore.

It's like that time I knocked on a manager's door for our scheduled 1:00 PM meeting. She was in there - I could see her through the window. Not on a call. Not dealing with a crisis. Just... sitting there.

I stood there anyway and felt like an idiot. "Marco?"

Nothing.

So I walked across the hall and emailed her. She responded in 30 seconds. From the office I'd just been knocking on.

I kept showing up the way I thought I should - face-to-face, in person, professional. But she didn't want a rep in her doorway. She wanted documentation she could respond to on her terms.

I was performing instead of connecting.

Same thing happened this week. I got recognition for certain work, so I kept doubling down on that. Even when it felt forced. Even when it pulled me away from what I actually wanted to build.

It got results. But it felt misaligned. Like standing outside that door knocking when she clearly didn't want me there.

The people who actually connect with my work? They're not responding to my performance. They're responding to my honesty.

What Consistency Actually Does

Here's what nobody told me: consistency isn't about every attempt landing. It's about being present enough, vulnerable enough, real enough that when someone's ready to pay attention, I'm still there.

The manager who finally answers after I've knocked eight times isn't responding to my latest attempt. She's responding to the accumulation of all of them.

Same with building anything that matters. People don't connect because of one interaction. They connect because I kept showing up when it felt like nobody was watching.

All week I showed up. Some things landed, most didn't. Connections kept happening anyway.

That's the point. Not the performance. The persistence.

When Life Derails the Plan (Featuring Mel Robbins and My Teenager)

I can have the perfect content strategy and still get derailed by real life.

This week, my teenager struggled. And when my kid hurts, I hurt. I was up at night managing moods—hers, mine, everyone's. Overexplaining myself and trying to fix things that weren't mine to fix.

I listened to Mel Robbins' podcast (episode 326 on the "Let Them" theory) and it hit me right in the feels. She talked about how exhausting it is to carry everyone else's emotions. How the problem isn't me - it's the power I give other people.

And I realized: I let people walk all over me, then get mad when they do. I give mental energy to things I can't control. Those things invade no matter how hard I try to compartmentalize.

So this week I reverted to "all business" mode.

When my brain is overwhelmed, I fall back on what I learned in medical sales. Extreme overplanning for meetings. Structured "get er done" mentality. The discipline that got me through impossible schedules and demanding clients.

Here's what I learned: The skills that got me through hard professional seasons like planning, discipline, and execution. Those aren't just work skills. They're survival tools.

When life got heavy this week, I fell back on the fundamentals. The process. The structure that carried me before carried me again.

I already knew how to show up when nothing felt right. I'd done it at work a thousand times. I just had to use those same skills when life knocked me sideways.

The Realignment

I'm done chasing work that feels misaligned just because it gets results.

My new LinkedIn newsletter launches November 3rd - first Sunday of every month. Back to building what I actually want to build, not what gets the most immediate validation. My medical peeps may not like it, and that’s cool they don’t have to subscribe.

The people who matter aren't here for my performance. They're here for my transformation. And to create the same in their own lives (can I get an amen?)

They want to see someone figure it out in real time. Someone building slowly while staying employed. Someone honest about the hard parts.

That's what creates real connection. Not polished wins. Honest documentation.

What I Couldn't See While It Was Happening

Real growth doesn't feel like success.

It feels like working hard without seeing immediate results. Like putting yourself out there and wondering if it matters. Like questioning whether anyone's actually paying attention.

But then I realized: people were showing up. They cared enough to reach out. Quiet ones watching until they were ready to raise their hand.

I wasn't failing. I was building momentum in ways I couldn't measure yet.

The manager who emails me back after ignoring my knock. The connection who reaches out after weeks of silence. The opportunity that shows up because someone's been watching all along.

They were always paying attention. I just couldn't see it.

So I'm going to keep showing up. Keep being honest. Keep building what matters even when it feels like nobody's watching.

Because they are. The quiet ones always are.

This is part of my Corporate Exit Diaries - real-time documentation of finishing my book and transitioning from profitable work to purposeful work.