10,000 followers and one lesson about putting myself out there

10,000 followers. The number is the easy part to talk about. What actually got me here is a lesson I think applies to anyone trying to put something real into the world.

For most of my career, my comfort zone was a stage or a room full of people I could actually see. I've never had trouble speaking in front of an audience, reading a room, adjusting in real time to what people needed. That part came naturally. A camera pointed at me with no one on the other end did not…

The first time I tried to record myself talking to camera for a post, I stopped and started a dozen times. I hated the output. It felt like performing into a void, no faces to read, no energy to bounce off, just me and a lens. Remembering to take a group photo at my own events felt like an extra task I would rather skip. Documenting a workshop while running it competed directly with the part of the job that actually mattered, being present with the people in the room.

None of that discomfort was really about the technology. It was about a new level of visibility and vulnerability, without the immediate feedback of a live audience telling me the message was landing with them and that it was all worth it.

I kept doing it anyway, pretty badly at first, because I understood something early on. You can build the best framework in the world, help transform how people make decisions, write a book about adaptability, but none of it matters if the people who need it never hear about it. Your work only has impact if the tools reach the people who need them.

So I practiced this the same way I'd tell any client to practice changeability, small, deliberate, uncomfortable reps, over and over, until what used to feel like an awkward performance started to feel like natural sharing. It got easier, and no, the discomfort didn't disappear completely, but I built the muscle for it.

What surprised me is what this actually turned into, beyond followers. LinkedIn became one of the most useful tools I have. When I have a trip booked for a keynote or workshop, I use LinkedIn to find relevant people in that city and reach out, inviting them for a 30 minute coffee meetup while I'm there. A lot of those conversations have turned into ideas that changed how I think about my work, perspectives that reshaped my own methodology, and relationships that later became collaborators, clients and friends. Other times, a stranger out of the blue will send me a message and say, “hey, we have this problem and your most recent post made me realize you could help us!”

A month ago, I found an abandoned dog on the street who needed help. I called him Mezcal. My first instinct, without thinking twice, was to create a social media account for him to help get him adopted. That reaction made me realize how deeply this has become part of how I think. Putting something out into the world, clearly and visibly, so the right people can find it and respond, isn't “marketing” to me anymore. It's simply how you drive forward a cause you believe in.

That's really the whole point of showing up here consistently. Not the follower count itself, but what it represents, a way of putting value into the world and then getting value back in ways I could never have imagined. Connections that started as a random LinkedIn message have shaped how I lead, how I facilitate, how I show up for others. None of that would exist if I'd stayed comfortably and quietly offline.

If you're building something you believe in and are finding this part uncomfortable, I'd just say what I tell my workshop participants. Discomfort is often a sign you're doing something worthwhile, if you can just move past that initial fear. So if you are excited about what you’re building, make some noise so your people can find you and can benefit from your great work!

Thank you to everyone who has helped me reach 10,000 people in this powerful network we are building together. I am so grateful to get to keep connecting with you on all things leadership, innovation and change!