The Blurred Lines Between Bragging and Celebration: Language That Keeps Us Small

I’ve spent June walking trails, working in the garden, getting my hands in the dirt, and getting my prescribed morning sunlight. In a couple of weeks, I will return to corporate work. It’s remote, which means I’ll be glued to a screen again. Before that, I wanted to remember what it feels like to live in my body instead of my inbox.

That’s how I started my entrepreneurial journey, if I’m honest. I jumped in and went nonstop - writing, creating, podcasting, building, all of it on the computer. Everybody wants the freedom of entrepreneurship, and then they look up and realize they’ve traded one screen for another. These last few weeks away from mine reminded me of something I’d let slip: nature is medicine.

There’s a reason being outside settles us. According to Instagram sensation and neuroscientist Em on the Brain, our brain’s recognition of patterns in nature regulate us. Birds are calming because their song signals safety. The absence of bird sounds during the total eclipse in Texas was like an Edgar Allen Poe experience. And the trees - they release phytoncides that strengthen the immune system while defending their own.

My dedication to more time outside is something I refuse to sacrifice as I go back to work. The luxury of the job I selected is my new boss’s clear aversion to micromanaging. Being a Director was rewarding in many ways, but I no longer need the title to validate me.

The post I almost deleted out of shame

Here’s another thing I noticed about slowing down: when I stopped performing for others, I had more time to fulfill my own dreams.

Straight from my 2024 vision board, I purchased a Land Rover Defender. I didn’t splurge on one straight off the lot, but rather researched the perfect Carvana deal. Just like the words I’d clipped from an attorney’s magazine ad - when you need a fierce defender - a rugged 2023, low mileage decked out Defender rolled into my driveway last week.

I was also excited to open my email yesterday and see some shocking news. It was a congratulatory email from TedX Southlake informing me I was selected for the second round of entries. I was convinced I had flubbed the process. I never received confirmation of my Microsoft form and there was no link to submit the video I thought had to accompany it. When the speaker’s notification date came and went, I sighed and thought “better luck next year.” Maybe the late email was an early birthday gift.

Big milestones, and yet. After I posted a photo of the car, my finger hovered over delete. It felt braggy. When I shared the TEDx news, I felt that same squirm of too much visibility.

I know exactly where that comes from. A friend in grade school once told me I was “fishing for compliments,” and I have apparently carried that sentence for forty years. Don’t talk back, I heard growing up, the way a lot of us Gen X kids did. What’s the matter, cat got your tongue? a neighbor needled, the day I couldn’t find my voice. For a late-diagnosed ADHD kid with a nervous system wired for rejection, the lesson landed hard: shrink, stay quiet, don’t take up space.

Celebrating isn’t bragging if it’s meant to create ripples.

A reframe of my thinking held that post in place. I thought about the woman who’s been waiting two years for the manifestation of her own dream, or the woman terrified to stand on a stage. When you celebrate a win, you are rocking the boat in the best way possible. Whether it makes giant waves or tiny ripples, it might inspire the woman sitting safely in the middle of the boat.

The mature, adult version of me knows that celebrating isn’t bragging, especially when, recently, I’ve noticed more intrinsic motivation - the kind that wells up from deep in the gut and fills the heart with joy. The car matters because I waited two years and was smart about it, not because I need the status symbol on the hood (because the Lexus 550 is pretty sharp looking too).

The stage matters because I’m finally using a voice I once swallowed. The whole point of TedX is to share a big idea that you are incredibly passionate about. The instructions even say to avoid a perfectly polished submission video and speak instead with conviction. Yes, TedX creates credibility as a speaker, but the passion I bring to my topic is intended to make other women feel less alone. It’s fast-tracking everything I had to learn the hard way.

Feel the fear - and do it anyway

Maybe you’re not making tidal waves. Maybe your ripple feels small next to the people out there changing the world. Mine often does too. I still recoil after I speak up. I still get the vulnerability hangover.

It counts anyway.

So here’s my invitation: share one win this week. One you’re sure nobody will care about. Post it, say it out loud, tell a trusted friend. Notice what your body does — the tightening in the chest, the urge to delete. Take a breath. Let your heart open a little wider. Then say the thing.

You might create a ripple that laps at someone’s feet and encourage them to dive into their own dreams headfirst.