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#193 - Nobody Saw It Happen
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A close friend, I'll call her Molly, built a tremendous career in public service. For over 20 years, she lived and worked around the world doing aid work for the US government.

But last year, along with tens of thousands of others, she got caught in the grind of Elon Musk's DOGE cuts. Her job was gone, but so was the entire path she'd followed, and had planned to follow into retirement.

After a period of shock, Molly did what you'd expect: honed her resume, started applying for jobs online, and began to network.
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It took time. It was a slog. It was the usual roller coaster of algorithmic void, ghosting, and bizarro interviews that have become the norm of modern job search.

But early this year, someone in her fitness community introduced her to a brand name consulting firm. Weeks later, after a slew of interviews and a live PowerPoint presentation -- she got an offer.

I'm over the moon for her. She's as talented as they come, and if she joins, they would be lucky to have her.

But as we went over those pros of the job -- steep learning, brand name, stability, benefits -- I flagged another reason the move might make sense:

"You'll be showing people you can adapt. They'll see your schools, and your 20 years of public service -- and then they'll see you transitioning into something new, hard and different. Don't underestimate the value of that signal."

Molly, if she takes this, creates a powerful way to show she's adapting: a pivot. People will see her arc: what she did so well for so long -- as well as the courage to step into something new and unfamiliar. That pivot is proof.

Proof, not polish

Molly's story has me thinking about proof more broadly. What other forms can it take? How do we make our growth visible? And how do we do it in ways that feel real, not performative?

All humans want to be seen. That need is deep and inescapable. But now, being capable is not enough. Credentials are not enough, either.

Part of the problem is noise. There is just more of everything: more people, more content, more resumes, more claims, more competition for our attention.

Meantime, there's also less trust. In work, in media, in politics, in finance; people are more skeptical of institutions, brands, and polish than ever.

In that context, they're less willing to take your ability on faith. They want to see what you’ve learned, how you’ve changed, and what kind of motion you're in.

In a high-noise, low-trust world, visibility matters more. Not as vanity or performance, but as proof.

The good news is there are more ways than ever to create it. Most don't require “working in public,” or turning yourself into a content machine. But they do require intent, and doing.

Visible motion

Another friend I admire was a long-time VP in a complex regional role. He spent years at a big company, and recently, went from that role to a bigger one, all without raising his hand.

On the surface, it looked like natural progression. But from my vantage point as a friend, I could see what actually played out.

Despite a packed calendar, heavy travel, and young kids -- he always invested in relationships. And he did it with care: not frantically, when things went sideways, but patiently, when there was nothing to gain in the short term.

He had genuine outside interests, and found ways to weave them into his work via speakers he'd invite to the office. He started and ran a thriving community of tech professionals.

He built a reputation that wasn't tied to an employer, and transcended his job title. He was someone whose orbit you wanted to be a part of. He built proof, and made himself visible. Then the motion he created attracted opportunity.

Aditya Agarwal put it well:

My friend is restless. Not paranoid, not reactive. You can see his movement. You can see the relationships, the community, the interests, and the initiative. There is proof beyond the company. And it's been a joy to watch him build it.

Small proofs

I want to be realistic. Most of what matters here is more doable than people think. The point isn't to launch a personal brand campaign. It's to create evidence of motion, judgment, curiosity, and change. Here are some ways to do that:

Write your stories down as they happen. Not for an audience; just for yourself. The risk is that your experiences and details start to fade. Use a Google Doc, a voice note, an email to yourself, whatever is easy. What matters is catching the tensions and learnings. (I didn’t do enough of this, so I’ve had to reconstruct what I should have been recording in real time!)

Cultivate one external relationship every month. Not awkward networking events. Genuine conversation with someone you already know, or should know better. Over time, small, consistent acts of care build trust, familiarityp and leverage.

Build something small. This could be a template, a deck, a tool or site you mock up with AI. The act of creating just means you produce something that didn't exist before. The artifacts you build move you from someone who accrues experience to someone who converts it into something.

Leave traces of your thinking. A useful comment, or a short post, or a take on a trend in your function. You don't need a big audience. You just want to start a trail.

Tell your story out loud. The person who can narrate what they’ve learned and what changed them is easier to trust than the person with the same experience who can't. Story helps people make sense of your arc. It helps you make sense of it, too.

None of this requires a big strategy, or 20 extra hours a week. None of it requires turning yourself into a public figure. It just requires deciding that your growth won't get trapped in your head, or your org.

Thanks for reading and exploring with me -- and have a great end of the week! 🙏

Aki