I was talking to a friend today who was seeking advice on how to hold more effective phone interviews. As I collected my thoughts and started sending him tip after tip, I realized this would make a great blog post. But... I had no blog.

Well, that's not true, I had this blog but it has sat empty for almost 10 months. I use writing like this as my tool to process and refine ideas, so why did it sit empty?

No more. Today, I start writing this blog. Under my real name.

Getting here took longer than I am proud to admit. In truth, I was afraid of putting my ideas out there. What if I accidentally expose myself as incompetent? Worse, what if I accidentally expose myself? Being known by someone is to be vulnerable, there is no pretense, no image to shield the real you from scrutiny. It didn't matter to me that virtually no one was going to read the blog, I was not comfortable with that level of vulnerability. If that was to dissuade me then I would lose the very benefit I sought to gain by writing more! Hence lolno was to be written under a pseudonym.

And yet, the blog still sat empty. Anonymity does not free us from our obligation to consider the impact of our words, and likewise anonymity does not free an anxious mind from the fear of exposure.

So what changed? The realization that the heart of my reticence was not fear, anxiety, or doubt... it was ego. It was my desire to maintain a certain image: that of the confidant experienced and erudite engineering leader. To me, this required having the right answers; but that was hard to do when my career trajectory was propelling me far past the limits of any real-world experience. So the best strategy appeared to be to limit my exposure—fake it 'til you make it right?

Wrong. I was spending all this energy on self-defense: on propping up and shielding my reputation. That's ultimately what ego is: trying to force things to conform to your will. All the while, preventing my opinions and ideas from receiving any real scrutiny. What if instead, I invested that energy in learning, admitting when I am wrong, and thereby continuing to grow?

Waking up to who you are requires letting go of who you imagine yourself to be.   - Alan Watts

Sadly this isn't for everyone. I am incredibly privileged to be able to expose my half-baked ideas with almost no risks to my professional standing or credibility. Colleagues will assume good intentions and help me get better. My fear was entirely misplaced; for others the danger is real. For example, women in tech are not afforded such latitude: competence is not assumed and must be demonstrated at every turn.

Feeling the freedom of (professional) vulnerability for the first time, I now truly understand the importance of psychological safety and will fiercely defend it at all costs.

And so here I go, putting myself out there. Let's just make sure everyone has the option to do the same.