When the things you're drawn to don't fit neatly into an existing category, it's easy to assume you have to reinvent yourself to make room for them. Or keep part of yourself out of view.
That's what we’re diving into in Episode 47 of The Energy Xchange. What I've come to believe is that creating your own lane usually isn't about reinventing yourself. It's about making room for who you already are.
For me, making that room is what led to Just One Woo. But the point was never the new brand. It was letting more of me be visible.
What creating your own lane really means
Creating your own lane means letting your work (or your life) reflect all of you, even when that doesn't fit a category people already recognize. Sometimes that means building something new. But often you're already doing the work. You just haven't let yourself express everything that informs it.
It doesn't have to mean leaving your old lane behind. It can mean expanding what you're willing to let that lane include.
When there's no example to follow
When you can't point to something and say, "That's what I'm trying to do," there's a certain vulnerability that comes with that. You don't know how people are going to receive it, and that's a legitimate uncertainty.
The problem is when we let that uncertainty decide how much of ourselves we share.
We get really good at this, too. We emphasize the parts of ourselves that make sense to other people and downplay the parts that might raise some eyebrows. Somewhere along the way, we internalized this idea that to be understood or taken seriously, we need to fit into categories people already recognize.
My example: a little too woo-woo, a little too grounded
So here's my version. A few years before I created Just One Woo, I started really diving into my spirituality. Energy, intuition, the unseen... all the things I couldn't necessarily explain or measure. And hey, we all have our crystal phase.
It started changing the way I thought about things. We're hustling. We're doing all the things. But what's it all for?
I was a little too “woo-woo” for my less spiritual friends and maybe a little too grounded for my more spiritual ones. Personally, I felt equally comfortable in both worlds.
Professionally, it felt different. At that time, I was much more immersed in a corporate setting, and I wasn't sure there was room for both.
Intuition and strategy were never in conflict
My background is in marketing, and I'm still in that world in a big way. I have a deep respect for strategy, for data, for understanding what's working and what's not.
But I was also seeing so much shape-shifting in marketing in general. People creating things for the algorithm, for Google, doing what they were told was the right thing to do. It felt like the soul was missing. Not necessarily spirituality, but the things that make our work meaningful. The values, the purpose, the people behind the business.
To me, those things were never in conflict. I could trust my intuition AND respect the data.
But here's where it got interesting. I was questioning why we shape ourselves around what we're told matters... and I was doing a version of the same thing. I'd spent years building a career and a reputation. Would people still take me seriously? Would they think I'd gone off the deep end a little bit?
What happened when I stopped keeping them separate?
Eventually, I just didn't want to keep these parts of myself separate anymore. It felt weird to not be expressing something that was so important and so integral to how I was showing up, especially in my work.
That's where Just One Woo came from. (“Not woo-woo... just the one.”)
For me, the turning point was practical. I stepped back from my more corporate, formal clients and workspaces and leaned into the spirit of Just One Woo instead. Not because anyone told me I couldn't be myself there. I didn't actually know that. It just felt too scary to find out, and stepping back felt safer than testing it. Looking back, that was its own version of bracing for a reaction that hadn't happened yet.
I didn't know exactly what I was doing with the brand yet. I just knew it needed to exist. And as I started exploring what it could look like professionally, I found the words for it: Where Soul Meets Strategy.
And here’s the important thing to know: The people I'd been so worried about alienating didn't suddenly disappear. I'd spent so much energy anticipating reactions that, for the most part, never actually happened.
What did change was who I started connecting with. Not necessarily people into spirituality, but people who felt there was more to what they were building.
Now, I don't want to make this sound like being yourself will magically attract more clients. That's not really the point. The bigger shift was that I stopped making so many decisions based on who I thought I might turn off... and started making more based on what felt true to me.
Where to start with your own lane
Your lane will look nothing like mine. But here's what I learned that applies either way:
The hardest part usually isn't figuring out how to DO it. It's giving yourself permission to do something people don't already recognize.
There are real unknowns. But you also don't know that people are going to react the way you're imagining.
You don't have to become someone different or abandon what you've already built.
You might just need to stop assuming that the way people already know you is the only way they can know you.
One place to start: Notice where in your work you edit yourself the most. Then try letting one small piece of what you've been tucking away show up there, before you decide it doesn't belong. That's the test I skipped.
A question to sit with
What's one part of you that's already there, already shaping your work, that people just haven't seen yet?
You don't have to invent a new lane from scratch. You might just need to let your current one include more of you.
Catch Episode 47 of The Energy Xchange, "Creating Your Own Lane," wherever you listen to your podcasts.
