I'm Not Scared of Failing. I'm Scared of Being Seen.
“I don't need everybody to see me. I just need what I'm putting into the world to mean something to the people it was meant for.”
Being seen used to scare the shit out of me, not because I thought I would fail, but because once people could see what I was doing, they could decide what they thought about it. Now? I'm pretty much fucking everywhere. Somewhere along the way, though, the fear changed. I'm not scared of being seen anymore. I'm scared of being seen and not making it matter.
I probably should have made this my first blog, pero here we are at the start of a new month and so much has happened.
Proof that things can change in a matter of minutes, hours, days, weeks, whatever.
Ser honesta, before the products, before I decided I was officially going to focus on my business in April, before I even wrote the first blog, I wasn't scared of failing.
I was dang scared of being seen.
How can this be true, Cynthia?!
An Aries. Fire-born. Extrovert!
Urrmmmm... au contraire, my chavalas.
I'm actually an introvert, and I don't particularly like attention.
I know. Make it make sense.
Here's the best way I can explain it: I want the attention on my business. I know I'm the business, obviously, but I want you to notice the products. Read the blog. Come to a coaching session. Learn something. Laugh at something I wrote. Maybe recognize yourself in one of my stories and realize you're not the only one trying to figure this shit out.
I want to know I made a difference in someone's life.
Pero, I'm not here trying to get a Netflix special.
¿Me entiendes? LOL.
There's a Difference Between Your Work Being Seen and You Being Seen
Back in Season One, I wrote about receiving the Founders Award at my 9-to-5.
And listen, I was and still am so very fucking proud of myself.
I earned that shit.
But here's the weird part.
At the end of the day, I felt like I was only doing my job.
I have so much passion for the work I do. I help people navigate their careers. I listen to their stories. I help them figure out what comes next. I write their resumes. I cheer when they get hired.
Apparently, you can get an award for doing that really, really well.
Thankfully and gratefully.
The funny thing is, I wasn't even expecting the grand award.
I just wanted an award.
Career Advisor of the Year. Most hires. Most something. Give me a certificate and let me go home feeling accomplished. 😂
Instead, I received the Founders Award.
And after the excitement came another thought:
Well, shit.
I remember hearing some version of this somewhere, maybe at the Oscars or from an actor accepting an award: with the award comes a huge responsibility.
And suddenly my brain was off.
How am I supposed to continue being this awesome for another year?
Where do I go from here?
Do I try for management?
Is there room for me to grow?
Can I grow here?
Or am I eventually going to have to find somewhere else to grow?
And probably the biggest question:
What the hell did I even do?
Because, again, in my mind...
I was only doing my job.
Turns Out, I Do the Same Damn Thing With My Business
I have that same kind of passion for life coaching.
I genuinely love helping women build boundaries around self-care, careers, relationships, family, and yes, even with the comadrita with big opinions about everybody else's life y se arrecha the second someone calls her out.
You know the one.
And over the years, I've built a pretty thick skin.
I've also learned that boundaries aren't barriers.
Okay, technically the word probably means building some kind of wall or border or whatever. Don't ask me for the etymology. That's not the point. 😂
The point is that boundaries are about protecting your peace.
And honestly, if someone repeatedly demonstrates that they aren't capable of respecting the peace you've asked for, there is no rule saying they have to continue having the same access to you.
And that is also very okay.
I can coach around that.
I can talk about that.
I can write about that.
But then I started making things.
Oh.
That's different.
What If the Thing I Made Doesn't Help Anyone?
Now I'm creating products based on the same things I coach women through.
A boundary-building worksheet, for example, which you can find on my website.
And suddenly my brain has 47 questions.
Will it actually help someone?
Will they understand it?
Will they use it?
Will they love it?
Will they look at it and think, What in the absolute garbage is this?
These thoughts are in my head every single time I put something out into the universe.
Okay, onto my website.
Soy bien dramática. You know this already.
But here's what's interesting.
I'm not particularly scared of AI chatbots people hire to leave hateful comments on social media.
I'm not scared of keyboard heroes who have plenty to say from behind a screen but probably wouldn't say a dang thing to my face.
People are going to have opinions.
Fine.
That's not actually the part that scares me.
I'm scared that I'm not helping people.
Because that's my whole purpose.
Even if it's just one person.
Maybe you're not scared of failing either.
Maybe you're stuck because taking the next step means somebody else gets to see what you're trying to do.
Your idea. Your boundary. Your career change. Your next version.
If you've been waiting until you feel completely confident before you move, you might be waiting a while.
Read next → Why Your First Sale Feels Scarier Than Your First Failure
Sometimes the next step isn't becoming fearless.
Sometimes it's deciding the thing matters enough to do while you're still scared.
Except... I Already Know I Help People
This is where my own argument starts falling apart.
Because obviously, I'm helping more than one person.
At my 9-to-5, I have worked with hundreds of clients.
My first full year, I helped approximately 300 people. In my second year, I'm getting pretty damn close to helping another 300.
People refer other people to me.
They come back when they need additional help.
Hell, sometimes they call or text me completely unprovoked just to give me an update about where they are now.
They got the job.
They got promoted.
They're doing something completely different.
They're okay.
And somehow, despite having all of that evidence sitting right in front of me, part of my brain can still say:
Yeah, but are you actually helping?
Chavala Jodida!
At some point we have to accept the receipts.
Because I think that's part of what being seen actually requires.
It's not only allowing other people to see what you're doing.
Sometimes it's allowing yourself to see what you're doing too.
And not immediately minimizing it.
Not calling it luck.
Not saying, I was just doing my job.
Not moving the damn goalpost the second you accomplish something.
Being Seen Means People Get to Decide What They Think
Maybe that's what scared me in the beginning.
Once you put something out there, it doesn't belong entirely to you anymore.
Someone can read my blog and decide they hate it.
Someone can see one of my products and decide it's not for them.
Someone can watch one of my reels and scroll right past my face.
Someone can disagree with how I coach, what I say, how I say it, or how much Spanglish I throw into a sentence.
And yes, somebody might think something I created is absolute garbage.
Okay.
But somebody else might need exactly what I created.
And if I refuse to be seen because I'm worried about the first person, the second person never gets the chance to find me.
That's the part I couldn't see when I started.
I thought visibility meant asking people to look at me.
Now I understand it a little differently.
Visibility gives the right people a chance to find what they need.
And sometimes, what they need might be something I made.
So, Am I Still Scared of Being Seen?
Well...
At this point, I'm fucking everywhere.
LOL.
The blog.
Instagram.
My newsletter.
My website.
My products.
My coaching.
My face.
My opinions.
My stories.
My Spanish.
All of it.
So no, the fear isn't really being seen anymore.
I've crossed that bridge, set up my hammock, brought some cafecito, and apparently decided to live here.
But the fear didn't disappear.
It changed.
Now I'm scared that I need to make it matter.
I don't want visibility just for the sake of visibility.
I don't care about being known simply so people know my name.
I want the woman who finds one of my worksheets to understand something about herself that she couldn't put into words before.
I want the person reading this blog to recognize herself somewhere in these paragraphs.
I want a coaching client to walk away seeing something more clearly.
I want someone to laugh, think, make a decision, set a boundary, take a chance, or finally admit that something in her life isn't working anymore.
I don't need everybody to see me.
I don't need everybody to like me.
And I definitely don't need the Netflix special.
I just need what I'm putting into the world to mean something to the people it was meant for.
So maybe I'm not scared of failing.
And maybe I'm not even scared of being seen anymore.
Maybe I'm scared of being seen and not making it matter.
And if that's the fear I'm carrying now?
Well, shit.
I think I can work with that.
