Misunderstood: I'm Back from the Dead!!!

My hands are shaking as I type this blog post.

It's hard to type thoughts when a waterfall is gushing from my brain and bottle-necked by my finger tips but, hot damn, I've got to get this out. Right. Now.

Ten minutes ago I was in bed and said to my husband, "I've got to take a few notes about a blog post."

"Okay." he sleepily responded.

I sent myself an email but as I typed I said, "No, I'm sorry, I have to write this post now." Immediately, I hopped out of bed and flew down the stairs in my birthday suit in pursuit of my laptop.

"Tea. I'll need tea," I thought to myself. I always write with a cup of tea.

I'm running around naked in my kitchen, filling a kettle with water, snatching up my laptop and standing with the unpleasantly cold metal of my Microsoft Surface pressed against me waiting for the water to boil.

Staring at my 7-year-old daughter's hedgehog Chia Pet (it's on day three and, for the record, who knew sprouting chia seeds looked so much like hedgehog fur!?) and realizing the old adage, "A watched pot never boils" had never been more true than in that moment.

There I was, squealing and jumping up and down naked in my kitchen, giving a fuzzy ceramic hedgehog a show (which is not as sexy as it sounds because, well, I'm not 25 years old. Less collagen in the skin. Can I get a witness?)

I admit I just asked Google why boobs sag as you age after blaming my depleted collagen. I discovered the ligaments that make up breast tissue opt into early retirement. Nice. (Strikes collagen off shopping list. Googles "how to strengthen breast ligaments.")

Now that you're up to speed on the whole "why boobs sag" thing, I need to tell you what prompted this morning's frenzy. I checked my email and pleasantly saw an unread message from my business coach, Shlomit. (I haven't mentioned Shlomit before today but I love this woman so much it's going to require its own post.)

Anyway, my coach shared an article to prompt some ideas for me. As I read the post I was smiling, laughing and thinking, "This is my kind of writing." Only it wasn't. Almost 20 years spent in Corporate killed my sense of humor in my writing.

Laughter is a big part of my life. My husband is funny because it's a cost of admission trait for marrying me. I can't be the only one around here belly laughing. Yet, somewhere along the line, some parts of my free-spirited humor in my writing had slipped away.

I spent a number of years in a corporate culture where fun was either absent, or manufactured. To be fair, it might have been the sub-culture of the teams I worked rather than the company. Either way, I spent years tucking my humorous and fun-loving personality down my navy dress pants because I needed to act "professional."

After a couple of years away from Corporate America my personality recovered in live interactions, but I hadn't yet exorcised my Corporate demons from my writing.

One experience that comes to mind was the time a book critic published a review of one of my business books. He called it "dry." I remember letting him know, in no uncertain terms, "I'm not dry! I'm funny. And you're a jerk!" (By letting him know, I mean I yelled at his name at the bottom of the review displayed on my laptop.)

Except he was right. The writing was a bit dry, at least for me. Oh, sure, the book was full of practical and insightful information, but it was written by Kristin A. Sherry, Corporate Zombie. I decided that day to be funny in my books going forward. I released my next book, Ready, Set, Coach!, with my mother Executive Coach Judi Spear. Was it helpful, insightful, full of solid advice? Sure. Was it funny? That's debatable.

What in the fresh hell was going on with me? I needed to know. Did I just forget to be fun?

Today, the breakthrough arrived. Today, I received an email from an educated, successful woman who consults with Fortune 500 companies. An email containing a funny article from another successful woman as an example for inspiration. Everything clicked in that moment:

My subconscious was not giving me permission to be myself.

Intellectually, I said, "Screw it - I'm shedding those Corporate rules of professionalism." Yet, subconsciously, I was still following that random set of rules.

Then the realization hit:

Sometimes we're misunderstood not because of who we are. We're misunderstood because we're trying to be someone we're not.

That might not be a revelation to you, but you have your own revelations to uncover as you seek to understand and be understood. As you explore who you are and why people sometimes misunderstand you, I hope to offer some assistance through this blog on your journey.

And hell's bells, I won't let my past Corporate Zombie self seep into my writing from this point forward. I'm not saying I won't ever slip into old patterns - change is a journey - but I have a renewed commitment to be myself in my writing.

I hope by sharing my butt naked adventure you can reflect on the pieces of you that you're stuffing down your pants and go jump up and down naked in your kitchen, too.

Hedgehog not required. Ch-ch-ch-Chia.