Everyone has a mean voice in their head—a voice that tells you things like:
- You're not ready—don't try.
- You'll embarrass yourself and be a complete failure.
- Who do you think you are?
- No one will care what you have to say.

At first glance, it may appear that this voice—sometimes referred to as the inner critic or gremlin—is a jerk trying to keep you down. But actually, your gremlin is just misunderstood.

He or she showed up in your head sometime when you were young. Maybe you read a poem to the class and someone laughed at you, or you got new glasses that you thought were snazzy but the other kids teased you about. And this voice appeared to protect you, telling you to play it small—stay safe, don't stand out, don't take chances, don't put yourself out there—at every turn…

Last week marked one year since Penney Leadership went live! Many of you have asked about my transition into entrepreneurship and what it's been like to own my own business. Today I'm pulling back the curtain to look behind-the-scenes.

The last year has completely exceeded my expectations—it's been so fun, meaningful, and exciting. I've gotten to build a life and a business around my personal mission, values, natural strengths, and the kind of success that I find most meaningful.

Someone asked me this morning about the most surprising thing about my experience thus far. This is it…

Here is a photo of my amazing mentee, Miriam. We were connected through a formal mentoring program at Brown University called Women's Launch Pad; it pairs female juniors and seniors with Brown alumni women to support the transition to life after college. (Oh how I wish I had the program when I was a senior!) 

When Miriam first reached out to me, she wrote me one of the most professional emails I'd ever received in my life. It was my first time in a formal role as mentor. It was her first time building a professional relationship with someone who wasn't a professor. We were both a little intimidated by each other.

It's been four years since then, and she's moved through a few steps in her career already. Through all of that, we've kept in touch—sharing updates and questions as we find ourselves at crossroads again and again. 

Last week, we were invited back to our alma mater for the kickoff panel for this year's program; we got to reflect on our time together and share our tips for making the most of a mentoring relationship.

Here are some of our favorites…

"I'd really love to quit my job and assemble Ikea furniture," my client said to me last week.

Though she is a prominent leader in an international company, overseeing offices in multiple countries, she jokingly fantasizes about leaving it all behind for black and white instruction manuals and particle board.

This topic inevitably comes up with each of my clients—secret wishes for their careers. Here are the three types of fantasies I've heard…

Navigating your career path and leadership development is hard. And it can be really lonely.

You may wonder if you're the only one facing the challenges before you...

...the only one losing sleep over the stresses of being a manager caught in the middle of the higher ups and your direct reports...

...the only one dealing with a toxic boss that makes you question whether you're putting up with abuse or you’re just not tough enough...

...the only one who is feeling lost and directionless because your career path is full of twists and turns and you're terrified of choosing the wrong next step...

...but I've got a bird's eye view, and I hear from a lot of clients who feel the same way.

I'm here to tell you this: You are not alone.

Here are just some of the issues that came up with my clients this week. Maybe you're facing one, too, and you think you're the only one…

About three months ago, I sat down for lunch at a Thai restaurant in Connecticut with a woman named Anne.

She is the managing partner of Fio Partners, a nonprofit consulting firm that I've been following for about three years: I'd hired them to facilitate staff retreats for my former organization, connected with everyone I knew who knew them, and had informational interviews with nearly every member of the six-person team about their lives as consultants. 

This meeting was less of a job interview and more of a conversation. It just felt right. I would join the team. I would complement my individual coaching at Penney Leadership with organizational consulting through Fio Partners. I would bring together my coaching expertise with my nonprofit management experience and tools to serve a wide variety of organizations. And the coconut soup was delicious.

It's what I've wanted for years. 

In the car on the way home, I called my best friend to share the news. She flipped, squealing, "ARE YOU SO EXCITED RIGHT NOW?" But I wasn't jumping out of my seat with elation—instead, I felt a total calm and coherence. It was a kind of deep knowing that my whole life had led me to this moment.

How do I know that? Here’s how…

A friend of mine recently started a nursing job at a new hospital. As part of the standard orientation plan, she was assigned a preceptor to show her the ropes and acclimate her to the hospital's policies.

But instead of being a supportive and encouraging leader, the trainer was constantly looming over my friend's shoulder, speaking over her during report-outs, and making unnecessary stylistic corrections to her written reports.

Instead of feeling confident and at home at the new hospital, my friend—an experienced and wonderful nurse—felt distrusted, incompetent, and frustrated. After just two shifts, she was going out of her mind. And the training period was six weeks long!

Each time I saw her, she was pulling her hair out, venting, and counting down the days. As we sipped gin and tonics on the porch after one particularly rough shift, I asked her:

What if, instead of seeing this as a frustrating and demoralizing situation, there was another way of looking at it?

Learn about the top benefits of working with me as your coach in this short video.

Achieve. Excel. Prove. Strive. Progress. 

These are all words that I would use to describe my approach to my career path in my first decade out of college. In a job interview along the way, one of the panelists asked me to what I attributed the "meteoritic rise" detailed on my resume. Me, a meteor! The question took me by surprise because I thought the answer was so obvious that it wasn't worth asking. Isn't that what the world wanted from me? Isn't that what I've been taught my whole life to be aiming towards? Rise to the top. Go to the best school. Get the best grades. Perform. Strive. Achieve. 

This is a sense ingrained in many young professionals today. We expect to advance quickly, to rise within our organizations, to display an impressive job title on our LinkedIn page.

A few years ago, my book club read a book on being transgressive in the workplace. It wasn't a particularly wonderful or memorable book, but there was one sentence in one chapter that has become a guiding principle for me: Everyone should have their own personal board of directors.

Since then, I've intentionally collected mentors whom (whether they know it or not) I consider to be members of my board.

Here's why your board is a critical part of your career development, and three tips to build you board.

"I'm afraid of making a mistake. I'm afraid of making the wrong choice."

One of my clients is wrestling with the next step of her career. She feels as though the path she chooses at this point will determine the course of her career—like one choice is a mountain where she'll start at the bottom and determinedly, over time work her way up to the top.

But what if she makes the wrong choice? Does it mean that if she changes her mind, she'll need to go all the way to the bottom of another mountain and start all over again?

This may have been how things worked in the past, but it's not how they work today... 

This week, I've talked with two separate people who told me that, if asked about their current work situations, they would likely burst into tears. These are awesome, passionate, mission-driven people, who have so much to contribute to a team and a workplace. But they are encountering some big, uncomfortable feelings—something is calling them to take the next steps in their careers.  

The feeling that it's time to move on is an inconvenient one, with a lot of complex questions and daunting tasks.