Celebrate Your Selves
The life and times of a joyful multi-hyphenate
LAST SUMMER, I ATTENDED the grand opening and ribbon-cutting ceremony of the Harriet Tubman Cultural Center in Columbia, Maryland. While a large crowd of well-wishers, organizers, and government dignitaries gathered outside to present citations and accolades, I walked alone through the building’s quiet halls and exhibition spaces.
My “private viewing” of the exhibit marked the end of a two-year journey. I was the lead designer for the exhibition rooms, responsible for the look and feel of the cultural center’s small, three-room museum. I designed the displays and chose paint colors for the walls. From the moment I joined the team, I had an emotional connection to the project. I wanted to honor the legacy of the people whose stories were being told. We touched on sensitive topics: race and culture, ownership and opportunity, identity and land—and the right of human beings to live, thrive, and find a place in the world.
Flowing back and forth from writing to design was something I did with ease throughout my career. So, in addition to the colors, typography, and design, I offered my words. I gave the exhibit its title, edited text, and added original content.
The spirit of story
As a multi-hyphenate—a person inhabiting multiple roles and expressing a variety of skills, gifts, and interests—I often struggled to define myself in life. I bristled when people asked, “What do you do?” I did a lot of things, and there was always more I wanted to explore. If I called myself a writer (which I did for many years), I was leaving out design. If I called myself a designer, it seemed that I was diminishing my love of words. Then, there was the unspoken role of holding a space for identity, story, and a human voice, regardless of the project or task. During my years in marketing, storytelling had a spiritual element for me. I thought of writing and design as facilitating human connection. In my view, I was responsible for answering the question, “Why does this (campaign, service, institution, product, message) matter?” In other words, “Why are we here?”
Given this expansive, hard-to-define bundle of elements, I never quite nailed the “elevator speech.” Over the years, I cycled through a variety of descriptions for myself, all seemingly inadequate. What I really wanted to say was that I was a distiller of information, a visualizer of stories, a person who could capture the “human side” of things. Trying to put myself in a box was exhausting.
Landing in my work and in my body
After many years of writing content for clients about real estate, pet food, hospitality, banking, finance, education, (and too many other topics to name), and walking through the world as a designer and visual communicator—and teaching as an adjunct professor along the way (English, speech, and design)—my identity shifted again when I wrote the book Trust Yourself with Money in the fall of 2020. I took on a topic that was personal, uncomfortable, and radioactive. I was interested in the invisible cords that hold things together—the obligations, agreements, assumptions, and relationships that influence financial behavior. More than anything, I was devoted to an exploration of personal agency and transformation, and I wanted to find a way to pursue these themes in my business. So, once again, I struggled with a fragmented professional identity. Now, I was an author moving more deeply into my natural gifts for teaching and coaching. More “hyphens” were added to the multi-hyphenate mix.
Eventually, I found a way to capture all of the bits and pieces of myself: a simple concept called “permission.” How did I come to grant myself permission to be me? It started in the summer of 2021, when I took a trauma healing course with somatic educator Luis Mojica. The experience transformed how I saw my relationships, my body, my work, and my life. I began to create new ways of being in the world. I learned about the nervous system, trauma responses, and the innate wisdom of the body.
As I expanded my capacity for life itself, I expanded my capacity for being myself. I calmed my nervous system and landed in my body. I dropped my shoulders and opened my palms in the face of discomfort and constriction. I began to see that I would always be evolving, growing, reaching out, stretching, making a mess and cleaning it up—and that all of it was the beauty of my life.
Tools, frameworks, and coaching
After the museum project ended, I decided to make a shift. I was already teaching and coaching through my books. Now, I wanted to work with people one on one. I spent six months working with a coach of my own, the brilliant Mair Dundon, to develop the heart and soul of my new coaching practice. We talked about my values, identity, and experiences. Today, as I coach clients, I am humbled by the power and elegance of the simple and organic frameworks that are coming into being. Not surprisingly, a primary area of interest is coming forward in my practice: work and professional identity. I’ve landed in a place that I once thought impossible: creating a business based on my values. Slowly, I’ve begun to understand that my identity is not captured in a list of skills, achievements, or “things I know how to do”—but rather in my values as a human being.
Working with my coach, Mair Dundon, on creating a values-based business.
Ready, steady
I’ve learned a lot in my years of working life. At times, I’ve experienced burnout, boredom, and confusion. There have been many “crossroads” moments where I’ve felt frozen and unsure of where to go or what to do. In hindsight, I can see that in spite of my doubt and discomfort, I was always on the right track. I had at least one guiding principle that served me well: I was driven by a desire for meaningful work. I wanted to work on projects that felt like they mattered—and I did. My roles and titles have shifted and changed over the past 30 years: I am a graphic designer, copywriter, editor, marketing consultant, teacher, author, and coach. What ties all of it together is me-ness: my desire to combine soulfulness and simplicity—my need to listen, reflect, and distill.
I love watching people pursue their own interests unapologetically and I love being a coach. Every lesson I’ve learned has value: my scratches, scrapes, and triumphs with money, work, and business; my commitment to transforming my physical health; my exploration of somatic awareness and embodiment. All of it crashes and flows like waves in the ocean. My artist self, business self, teacher self, healer self, and seeker self all have a home. All of these “selves” are alive in me as I hold space for my clients.
Over the years, I’ve envied people who were “just one thing.” I liked the idea of being able to say, “I’m a lawyer” or “I’m a teacher” without any footnotes or long explanations. Today, I grant myself permission to be all of who I am: a joyful multi-hyphenate. I acknowledge my interdisciplinary nature as an expression of lavishness and good fortune. It took a while, but I discovered that the simplicity I craved would not come from finding “one thing” to do in life, but from infusing “me-ness”—and meaning—in every step and chapter along the way.
Stop by my YouTube channel to hear my thoughts on work, money, and personal agency. Interested in coaching with me one on one? Visit my coaching page to schedule a complimentary consultation.
Curious about the Harriet Tubman Cultural Center? Here are photos from The Baltimore Sun.
