Who are you without your credentials? In the quest to fit in, I forgot to be myself.
“My medicine has always been a dose of madness.
A dose of madness, do you want to try it?
Prove what and for whom?
And if the cure is just
Not needing to prove anything to anyone?”
I took a breath and looked around the room. Dozens of writers were typing away confidently, but all I could think of was the blank page in front of me — no words would come out. I was in a creative writing retreat, and on that morning we were asked to write a bio of ourselves. But there was a twist: we could not mention our careers, any institutions, or credentials. I racked my brain for minutes and scanned through every memory to try to find a story — my story. Suddenly, the simple act of introducing myself paralyzed me. How could I capture who I am without these things? I didn’t know where to start.
As others shared their bios, I understood the assignment. Their life experiences, interests, dreams, and memories were more interesting than any degree. We all have complex stories, and when you remove our credentials —especially in this digital age where social media is making us used to highly curated representations of ourselves — the complexity shines through. I highly recommend this exercise.
For example, in a regular bio, I would have written something like “I recently graduated with a master's degree in journalism with a focus on long-form storytelling.” But on that morning, I wrote that when I was 16 years old, my hometown — São Paulo — was taken over by violent clashes between the police and the prison gang PCC. As I passed the carcass of a bus that had been consumed by flames, I found myself overwhelmed by questions and a deep desire to understand the world around me — all of which ignited a passion to tell stories. I don’t know about you, but I think the second bio is more interesting.
The writing retreat was my graduation gift. I wanted to get my creative juices flowing before starting the next step in my journalism career. But the thing is, when I went home, I forgot about that lesson.
But before I tell you about what happened, you need to know a bit more about me. I moved to the U.S. 12 years ago, and have been working as a fashion model since then. When I enrolled in my master's program, I started to realize how different my story was from everyone else’s, and how my professional background was pretty obscure in the eyes of most people in school. Besides, there were few international students living permanently in the US. As a woman, an immigrant, and a fashion model, I knew some people just wouldn’t take me seriously.
So, when I graduated — and started to look for journalism jobs — I knew I had extra challenges. And to try to convince employers that I’m qualified, I decided to hide my story. In an attempt to be perceived as “normal,” I sent out generic applications, and only mentioned my credentials and skills. Ironically, I did the opposite of what that writing workshop taught me.
Well, no surprise that didn’t land well…
When one of my career mentors saw my cover letter, she looked at me like she was about to yawn:
“This sounds boring. What about your story? There is no sense of who you are and why you want to be a journalist.”
Hiding my story meant hiding myself, and well, also my potential as a journalist. If people can’t see us, of course, they would not find us interesting. There was no sense of passion in those letters.
“You sound like just anyone who gets into journalism for no good reason rather than making some money and getting a job,” my mentor said.
I was telling my story the way I thought it should be told, instead of the way it is. In the process, I left out everything that’s interesting. And the truth is, everyone has a different story, and that’s what makes us unique. Expecting to fit in by pretending to be someone else (or by hiding part of your journey, in my case) is disrespectful to yourself. I realized that I was insulting my beautiful, messy being, by assuming I needed to hide for acceptance.
Don’t make the same mistake that I did. Fitting in is overrated. You should never feel pressure to make yourself look like who (you think) others want you to be. We are all better off showing up as we are, and attracting whatever it is that truly is ours. At the end of the day, to attract a life that fits you well, you need to show up as you. Remember, we all have a different and interesting story, and it’s your job to find the courage to tell it.
I hope you fully embrace yourself, your background, your journey, and everything that makes you unique. Share it proudly everywhere you go!
