Becoming in Public
When I first stepped into the world as a therapist, an entrepreneur, and eventually a leader, I thought I had to show up polished and certain. I thought credibility meant always having the right answer, always knowing the next step, always presenting myself as unshakable.
But the truth is, I’ve been learning in real time. I’ve been making mistakes, changing my mind, and evolving right where people can see me.
This is what it means to become in public.
Photo by Daniel Thomas on Unsplash
The Vulnerability of Not Knowing
There’s a vulnerability in admitting, “I don’t know yet.” In a world that expects Black women to carry endless expertise and strength, choosing honesty feels radical.
As a mental health professional, there are times I’ve had to say, “Let me sit with that,” or “I need to learn more.” As a business owner, I’ve had to revisit strategies, shift my boundaries, and try again. And as a human being, I’ve had to let people witness me in moments of uncertainty.
Younger me would have called that weakness. Older me calls it integrity.
Evolution in Real Time
Becoming in public means people see the process, not just the polished result. They see the posts I write when I’m still figuring it out, the workshops I design that shift after feedback, the ways my voice has grown bolder over time.
It’s uncomfortable sometimes. But it also reminds me that becoming is not something we arrive at, it’s something we practice daily.
Community as Mirror
The saving grace of becoming in public is community. Having people around me who are also evolving gives me the courage to keep going.
In community, we practice vulnerability together. We show each other what it looks like to stumble and still keep moving. We remind one another that transformation isn’t something to hide—it’s something to honor.
What I Know Now
Becoming in public is messy, but it is also beautiful. It means choosing authenticity over performance, honesty over perfection. It means saying, “I am still growing, and you can grow with me.”
To my readers, especially Black women and queer women who feel like you have to be fully formed before anyone takes you seriously: you are allowed to be in process. You are allowed to be visible even as you evolve.
Becoming is not about showing up flawless. It’s about showing up whole.
There’s a vulnerability in saying, “I don’t know yet.” For Black women especially, the pressure to always carry expertise and strength is real. To admit uncertainty can feel dangerous. But what I’ve learned is that transparency is not weakness, it is integrity.
People have watched me evolve — through blogs, workshops, client work, and even mistakes. They’ve seen my ideas shift, my voice get bolder, and my willingness to try again grow stronger. And instead of disqualifying me, it has made my work more human.
Community has been the saving grace of this process. Being surrounded by people who are also evolving reminds me that growth is something we can practice together. They show me that transformation isn’t something to hide, it’s something to honor.
Becoming in public means allowing myself to be seen not as a finished product but as a full person in motion. It means choosing authenticity over performance, honesty over perfection.
What does “becoming” look like for you right now? Where might you let yourself grow in public, even if it feels messy?
