You Aren’t for Everyone — And That’s the Point

I used to think being liked was a pretty good indicator that I was doing something right. If people liked me, respected me, invited me into the room, agreed with what I said, or wanted to work with me, great. Keep doing more of that.

And when someone didn't? Well, obviously I needed to figure out why.

Was I too loud? Too opinionated? Too much? Did I say something wrong? Should I have worded that differently? Should I have stayed quiet?

It is exhausting trying to be palatable to everyone.

And eventually, you start changing so many little things about yourself that you don't recognize yourself anymore.

Being Liked Isn't the Same as Being Trusted

I've been writing a lot about trust lately.

About how buyers know when something feels manufactured. About how AI is making it easier than ever to sound like everyone else. About why having an actual point of view matters.

But I don't think this only applies to marketing.

I think it applies to people, too.

You can't build real trust while constantly changing yourself based on who is in the room.

You can't have a strong point of view if you abandon it the second someone disagrees with you.

And you can't build meaningful relationships if you're always presenting the version of yourself you think the other person wants.

The things that make some people say, "She's not for me," are often the exact same things that make someone else say, "She's my person."

There Will Be Rooms Where You Don't Fit

There are rooms you can spend years trying to earn your way into.

Professional circles. Friend groups. Leadership tables. Speaking opportunities. Communities. Relationships.

You can convince yourself that if you work a little harder, prove yourself a little more, say the right thing, know the right person, or become just a little bit different, eventually they'll make room for you.

Sometimes they won't.

And sometimes the biggest mistake is believing every room deserves that much of your energy.

Sometimes you're in the wrong room. Sometimes you've outgrown it. Sometimes the people sitting at that table aren't your people.

And sometimes you need to stop waiting for someone to pull out a chair and go build a bigger table.

You Are Not Too Much

I really hate the phrase "too much."

I've heard it far too many times in my life. I've thought it about myself. Which is the worst part, honestly.

Too loud.

Too opinionated.

Too ambitious.

Too emotional.

Too excited.

Too passionate.

Too direct.

Too visible.

Too weird.

Too much.

What a horrible thing to teach ourselves to believe. Because "too much" compared to what?

Who decided the appropriate amount of you that you're allowed to be? Usually, "too much" doesn't actually mean there's too much of you. It means there's more of you than a particular person knows what to do with. That's different.

I think about how much time we can waste trying to find the exact right volume setting for ourselves.

Maybe 80% me is okay here.

Better bring it down to 60% in this room.

Don't say that. Don't laugh that loudly. Don't get too excited. Don't talk about that accomplishment. Don't disagree. Don't be the first one to speak.

Imagine what we could do with all the energy we spend monitoring ourselves.

You are not too much.

You are just right.

And being just right doesn't mean you don't need to grow. There is a huge difference between realizing you have something to work on and deciding there is fundamentally too much of you.

I don't need less Sam.

I need to keep becoming a better Sam.

Not Being Chosen Still Stings

I don't want to pretend rejection doesn't bother me.

It does.

I still notice when I'm not invited. I still wonder why someone else got the opportunity. I still replay conversations and wonder if I said too much. But I'm getting better at not turning every one of those moments into evidence that I need to change myself.

And someone deciding I'm not for them? They might be right. LET THEM!

Your People Need to Be Able to Find You

If you're constantly trying to appeal to everyone, how are the right people supposed to recognize you?

The people who love your weirdness. The people who appreciate that you say the thing everyone else is thinking. The people who laugh at the same inappropriate joke. The people who challenge you without asking you to become someone else.

Those relationships require you to actually show up as yourself first. (And how I built my circle personally!)

Not the version you think people want.

You.

Let Them Not Like You

There are people who won't like you.

There are rooms where you won't fit.

There are opportunities that will go to someone else.

There are people who will misunderstand you even when you've explained yourself perfectly.

Let them.

I don't want to spend my energy trying to convince someone that I should be for them.

I'd rather spend it being fully myself around the people who already get it.

You aren't for everyone.

And that's the point.