Your Resume is Polished. But Your Story is Incomplete.

Crafting your narrative isn’t just a branding exercise — it’s how you find your direction.

Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

You’ve achieved everything you were supposed to:
The title. The salary. The team. The results.

But now… you're here.
In the in-between.

Maybe you've left a big role, or you're still in one — but something’s off.
You can't see what’s next. And that terrifies you more than you'd like to admit.

You dug up your resume. You’re tweaking your LinkedIn, adding wins, roles, metrics. But it feels… empty.

Because you’re trying to move forward using the language of your past.

You don’t need a resume rewrite.
You need a story reboot.

“The stories we tell literally make the world. If you want to change the world, you have to change your story.” — Michael Margolis

If you want to change your world, you have to change your story.

You know that storytelling matters.

It helps you lead, persuade, and land your message.

Great stories don’t just paint a picture; they make you feel something, something that stays with you… long after the meeting, the video, or the performance.

But storytelling isn’t just for your next interview, Board meeting, or when you meet someone new.

It's for you.

It's how you see yourself and what you stand for.
It's how you celebrate your wins and your progress.
It's how you keep your values and priorities clear.
It’s how you meet the people who will help.
It's how you attract what you seek.
It's how you deter what you don't.
It's how you stay grounded.

It's how you evolve you.

I didn’t embrace storytelling until I started my coaching practice.

For me, it began as a means to an end.

Yes, I had been storytelling for my entire career, my entire life.

I had done it intentionally but only narrowly, for specific moments, with specific people, for specific ends.

I was focused on packaging myself as a competent executive:
Someone people could trust to lead organizations. My narrative arc was centered on KPIs tracked, skills developed, and goals realized.

My hero’s journey included revenue turnarounds, difficult people dynamics, and new business models.

And it worked. From the back office to the front office. From analyst to CEO. It made me leadership material: proven, desirable, and a safe bet.

But left so much unsaid.

There wasn’t room for all of me.

My health crises, my postponed art journey, and my conflicts about becoming a parent and having an ambitious career—I told myself it wasn’t safe or relevant to include these pieces of me in the past.

My clients, my Boards, my team wouldn’t understand.
It would be worse than distracting. It would undermine my credibility.

Now, on my new path, not as a representative of a company, but as my own brand, I wanted to be fully seen.

I stepped back and built a broader tapestry of both where I’ve been and where I wanted to go next.

This was a chance to reimagine my story.

So I delved into health challenges, mindset breakthroughs, my misses as a leader, and things I’ve learned from my family.
Topics I would have never shared in my corporate life.

Nearly a year later, I’m still reimagining my story, each week as I write this newsletter and my Substack Notes and LinkedIn posts.

Every piece is a chance to convey another nuance, another element of my arc.

Some have become essential parts of my story.
Others remain tangents I no longer need to test.

Every time I share something that I would have never shared in the past is an act of courage. At first, I wondered if I was sharing too much or if my stories mattered.

“Even if it helps just one person, it’ll be worth it,” I tell myself.

Nearly a year later, I can tell you: it’s been worth it.
Not because I helped others—though I did, sometimes..
But because every time I share, I reclaim more of myself.

My multiple facets bind together and make me stronger.

Perhaps I would have been a better leader if I had integrated more of me into my narrative, even in my corporate days.

What if I had given the people around me a chance to see the whole me?

I won’t ever know the answer, and I can’t change the past.
But I know that crafting a holistic narrative this past year has transformed my sense of self and my power.

You can do this, too.

Your story is waiting for you to tell it.

It might be exactly what you need—to make sense of your journey thus far and to carve out where you want to head next.

How to Create Your Story

Find a quiet place where you can be undisturbed for at least 30-45 min.

Use a notebook or a voice note app — you can be sitting or walking.

1. Ask yourself:

• What am I proud of?

• What do I crave more of?

• What’s missing in my current narrative?

2. Go deeper:

• What gives you joy

• What makes you sparkle

• Who is someone who inspires you

• What drives you forward

3. And when you're feeling courageous:

• What part of me have I edited out for the sake of being “professional”?

• What story am I avoiding — but secretly want to tell?

You don’t have to start sharing this.
You just have to start seeing it.

Because until you own your story, it will own you.

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A Final Invitation

If you’re in the midst of a transition, you don’t need to have the answers.

But you do need a story that lets you ask better questions.

Start writing.
Start remembering.
Start reclaiming the parts of you that you’ve tucked away for too long.

Not for your LinkedIn.
Not for your next role.

For you.

Your Turn

What parts of your story are you still figuring out?
Share below — someone else might be walking that same path.

If this post helped you, tap the ❤️ and pass it along to someone else who needs to reimagine where they’re headed.

And if you’re exploring your next chapter — I’ve 3 asynchronous coaching spots open for this fall.
Message me or book a 15-min chat to see if it’s the right fit.

Here’s to leading — and living — without limits,