Food for thought:
In late 2023, I lost my entire Instagram account after 7 years in business. And actually not once, but twice; the second time after I’d asked colleagues to help with visibility. It’s hard to make that request back to back. My bounce rate is pretty high, but after coming off the hardest year of business, there was, honestly, a moment of wondering for the first time exactly how an online business can survive if it’s not…online. And no, Instagram isn’t the end all be all for me either. But nothing guarantees we’ll always be able to access our online accounts.
In a rare moment, when sharing the insecurity of starting over with a new reputation and the burden I felt it placed on asking people to help again, my friend stopped me. “Consider it a gift, because it allows those of us who really love you to show you what it really means to show up. There’s so much superficial in this world, it’s good to be reminded of what’s real, and important, and true friends are that.” In a world where visibility has resulted in so many charlatans, that statement stuck.
Earlier this year, I found myself facing a nuanced and dangerous legal scenario, and had to ask for help. Actual, time sensitive and highly-strategic help. The kind of “quick question” that I know all too well drains the productivity of a day.
When I started to apologize to my mentor for asking for his help, he said “that’d be like someone going through bootcamp so they can be called a soldier, and then just hand out sandwiches”.
Integrity can be defined in so many ways. One iteration worth remembering is the actions we choose to take, when no one sees what we’re doing, when no accolades await, and no one may ever know that we did it. As these two people I admire so much demonstrated: Integrity doesn’t announce itself, nor does it need praise. However, that may be when it in fact matters most.